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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908860">A Miraculous Christmas Carol</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lpofdestiny/pseuds/lpofdestiny'>lpofdestiny</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens, Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Gen, POV Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, POV Félix Graham de Vanily, POV Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, POV Multiple</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:41:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lpofdestiny/pseuds/lpofdestiny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Eve and Hawk Moth's latest Akuma wants to teach Gabriel Agreste a lesson with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Christmas Present, and Christmas Yet to Come. Can Ladybug and Chat Noir stop the Akuma before it's too late? Or...do they even want to?</p><p>Takes place after Season 3.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Emilie Agreste/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Félix's Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have endeavored in this ghostly little fanfic to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humor with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.</p><p>Their faithful Friend and Servant, </p><p>lpofdestiny</p><p>P.S. Happy Holidays!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix Graham de Vanily stared out through the narrow window of the nearly empty airport terminal, glaring at the snow as it fell in a thick blanket. Snowplows rushed around, their emergency lights flashing in the darkness as they tried to clear the ground, but it was a losing battle. It had piled up to over several feet in some places. Planes sat at their gates, dormant and covered in snow. De-icing operations had ceased completely.<br/><br/>“So…there’s nothing that can be done?”<br/><br/>His mom stood at the counter behind him, speaking with a flight attendant. She seemed so sure she’d be able to figure something out, but it looked like they were stranded.<br/><br/>In Paris.<br/><br/>On Christmas Eve.<br/><br/>F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix heaved a sigh. He had imagined a much different Christmas for the two of them. Tea in their matching mugs with Welsh cakes. A pile of presents for him almost as tall as their Christmas tree. His mom crying, “Oh, F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix, this is perfect! How did you know?” as she opened her gift from him. Sure, once they got back home, all those things would all still happen. But it wouldn’t be the same.<br/><br/>Sort of like how life was without his dad.<br/><br/>“I’m truly sorry, ma’am,” said the flight attendant. “Would you like me to book you a room at the airport hotel?”<br/><br/>His mom paused, and F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix turned to stare at her. What reason did she have to hesitate? It seemed an easy enough question to him.<br/><br/>“That’s quite all right,” she told the attendant after a moment. “We have family here, so we’ll spend the night with them and take the Startrain home in the morning.”<br/><br/>F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to argue only for his mom to shoot him a look. She knew what she was doing, and he’d be a fool to assume otherwise. He kept silent as she thanked the flight attendant and grabbed her carry-on luggage. Calling out to him, she led the way towards baggage claim.<br/><br/>“Mom, do you really think Uncle will let us stay with him?” asked F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix as he trailed after her, his luggage a miniature version of hers. “Especially after what I did last time?” Good thing he left his Graham de Vanily Twin Ring at home.<br/><br/>“You did nothing wrong,” his mom insisted. “You only took back what was rightfully ours. Besides…it’s Christmas Eve.” She gestured to the tinsel decorations hanging above their heads. “He’d be a monster <em>not</em> to allow us to stay.”<br/><br/>His mom always was a shrewd one, using social niceties as her weapon of choice, but F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix had his doubts that they would work on a man as cold-hearted and miserly as his Uncle. He didn’t seem to care about others, least of all what others thought of him. F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix’s mom seemed confident though, so maybe there was more to her plan than she was letting on.<br/><br/>“But why not just stay in a hotel?” F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix wondered.<br/><br/>“On Christmas Eve?” she wondered. “Certainly not! This is a special time of year and, if we can’t spend it at home, the least we can do is spend it with family. I’m sure Adrien will be thrilled to see us!”<br/><br/>F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix blamed himself for their current predicament. He was the one who wanted to go to a junior karate competition in Budapest, even though it took place so close to Christmas. It never occurred to him that their connecting flight out of Paris on their way back home would be delayed, much less canceled.<br/><br/>Stupid freak snowstorm. F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix wouldn’t be surprised if it were the work of an Akuma.<br/><br/>Rather than call his Uncle’s assistant for a car, his mom made the curious decision to hail one of the two taxis braving the snow.<br/><br/>“Why don’t you text Adrien?” she said as they settled into the taxi’s pleather seats that smelled vaguely of smoke. “Let him know we’ve sent him a Christmas surprise. It should be arriving tonight.”<br/><br/>F<span class="aCOpRe">é</span>lix grinned. Of course. To get what they wanted, they would exploit his Uncle’s only weakness: his own son. Adrien was kind and trusting to a fault. He’d let them inside, even if his father did not.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Gabriel Agreste stood with his arms behind his back, staring at the beautiful portrait of his wife, done in the style of Gustav Klimt's <em>Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I</em>. It was more commonly known as <em>The Woman in Gold</em> and that was who Emilie was to him—a shining beacon, a priceless artifact. His everything. What he wouldn’t do to hold her in his arms again.<br/><br/><em>Soon</em>, he reminded himself. He just needed to get his hands on the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous.<br/><br/>“Father?”<br/><br/>Gabriel flinched, having not expected his son to walk into his atelier. He had told that hulking gorilla of a bodyguard to keep the boy busy, but it was clear he had failed. If only Nathalie weren’t bedridden. She would’ve made sure he wasn’t disturbed.<br/><br/>“I’m very busy, Adrien,” he insisted, striding over to his workstation.<br/><br/>“I know,” said the boy, all smiles as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “But maybe you can take a break and help me decorate the Christmas tree for a little while?”<br/><br/>“I’d rather not.”<br/><br/>“But Father!” he complained good-naturedly. “It’s Christmas Eve!”<br/><br/>“It doesn’t matter what day it is.”<br/><br/>“Surely you don’t mean that!”<br/><br/>“I do.”<br/><br/>“But…but Christmas is a time for family!”<br/><br/>“Yes. And some of our family isn’t here.”<br/><br/>Adrien paused and swallowed whatever words he was originally going to say as the joy left his eyes. He bowed his head.<br/><br/>“I don’t mean to be rude, Father. But I think Mother would want us to have a merry Christmas.”<br/><br/>Gabriel scoffed. “There’s nothing merry about it! People putting themselves into debt, spending money they don’t have on gifts their children don’t need. Everyone is taking time off, even though the world continues to turn, and things still need to get done. And don’t even get me started on how everyone expects you to be happy. I swear, if one more caroler comes to <em>my</em> door to wish me a ‘Merry Christmas’ because <em>you</em> let them through the gate, I will have them arrested for trespassing!”<br/><br/>“Father!” pleaded Adrien.<br/><br/>Gabriel held up a hand to silence him “I don’t want to hear it. You are free to celebrate Christmas anyway you wish. And so am I.”<br/><br/>“But…you don’t celebrate it. That’s the problem.”<br/><br/>“Call it what you may, but I have good reason to act the way I do. Ever since your mother…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish. “Well, Christmas is a reminder of what we’ve lost.”<br/><br/>“It doesn’t have to be that way,” insisted Adrien. “I’m not saying we should forget her, but Christmas is about a lot more than family. It’s about kindness and forgiveness and generosity. It’s about fun! It’s the only day I can think of when people are willing to put aside their problems and just enjoy themselves and help others. Is that so wrong?”<br/><br/>Gabriel did not appreciate being talked back to by his own son.<br/><br/>“That’s enough!” he said sharply. “One more word from you and I’ll start taking away your presents.”<br/><br/>Grimacing, his son took a step back. “I’m sorry, Father. I’ll leave you be. If I could just ask you one more thing though…”<br/><br/>Gabriel pushed up his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand while motioning for Adrien to continue with the other. The sooner his son left, the better. He just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts again.<br/><br/>“My friend Marinette invited me to Christmas dinner at her house tomorrow night,” the boy explained. “Is it all right if I go?”</p><p>If Gabriel had perhaps been in a better frame of mind, he would have considered saying yes. It would've made Adrien so happy. After a trying Christmas season though filled with reminders of Emilie and failures to procure the means to bring her back, he was offended by the idea of his son celebrating a major holiday with another family. It felt...ungrateful. Like he was being replaced.<br/><br/>“No,” he said.<br/><br/>“W-what!?” stuttered the boy. “But…why?”<br/><br/>“What do you mean, ‘why?’ I’m your father. That’s reason enough.”<br/><br/>“But we’re not doing anything tomorrow!”<br/><br/>“It doesn’t matter. You should spend Christmas here, where you belong, and that’s final. Good night.”<br/><br/>“But Father!”<br/><br/>“I said good night!”<br/><br/>The boy sighed, and, for a moment, looked broken. But then he suddenly straightened his back and…smiled. Bright as the sun. He grinned like a fool as he backed out of the room.<br/><br/>“I really am sorry I bothered you, Father. I know Christmas is tough for you, but I’m going to enjoy it because I know that’s what Mother would’ve wanted me to do. So…Merry Christmas!”<br/><br/>“Good night.”<br/><br/>“And a Happy New Year!”<br/><br/>The boy was just cracking-wise now.<br/><br/>“Good night!” shouted Gabriel with as much force and venom as he could muster, sending Adrien scuttling away. The door shut behind him and Gabriel was finally left alone to continue to ruminate about Emilie.<br/><br/>His peace did not last long. A video call popped up on the screen of his workstation. It was Nathalie. He tapped the green phone icon to answer her call.<br/><br/>“Have you discovered something new in your Miraculous research?” he asked her.<br/><br/>The woman, pale and in a pair of red pajamas, looked startled. Behind her head twinkled the Christmas lights she had used to decorate her tufted headboard. “Er, uh, no, sir,” she said, smoothing her bedraggled hair. “I am sorry to disturb you, but I’m calling concerning the Agreste Foundation’s yearly Christmas donation to Serve the City.”<br/><br/>“Where does that money go?”<br/><br/>“I just told you, sir: Serve the City. It’s a non-profit organization that partners with homeless shelters, refugee centers, orphanages, and other associations by offering help and support through volunteer mobilization. The Agreste Foundation has been donating to them for several years.”<br/><br/>The name vaguely rang a bell now. Gabriel recalled it being Emilie’s idea. She had been very involved in the Foundation when she had been around.<br/><br/>“And what does this have to do with me?” Gabriel wondered sourly.<br/><br/>“The courier said he tried to come to the door to pick up the check, but you chased him away.”<br/><br/>“Oh.” Gabriel recalled a weedy young man with a soul patch coming up to the house, but he had leaned out the door shouting threats at him if he came one step closer. “I thought he was a caroler,” he explained.<br/><br/>“Sir?” said Nathalie in utter confusion.<br/><br/>“No matter,” he decided. “Cancel the check. The Agreste Foundation simply won’t donate this year.”<br/><br/>A beat.<br/><br/>“But sir!” cried Nathalie, leaning forward towards the camera. “It would be no trouble at all for me to resend for the courier! Serve the City counts on the Agreste Foundation’s donation every year.”<br/><br/>“If they can’t operate without our generosity, then they aren’t a very well run non-for-profit, now are they?”<br/><br/>“Of course they can operate without us. It’s an international organization.”<br/><br/>“Then I see no reason to donate.”<br/><br/>“That’s, uh, besides the point, sir. It’s Christmas. It’s a time to think of those who are less fortunate than ourselves. Those without homes, without countries, without parents.”<br/><br/>“And I am without a wife!” Gabriel snapped. “But I don’t see <em>anyone</em> donating to <em>me</em>!”<br/><br/>Nathalie was at first offended, but her feelings eventually turned to pity, upturning her eyebrows. “You’re tired,” she decided. “I can only imagine how difficult this Christmas season has been for you without Emilie. Why don’t you go to bed and we can speak in the morning?”<br/><br/>“It’s Christmas Eve,” Gabriel pointed out softly, regretting his tone but not enough to apologize. “There are sure to be a lot of negative emotions. A child who discovers the truth about Santa. A woman who does not receive a gift from her significant other. A man who is forced to work on Christmas. One of them will make the perfect Akuma, I’m sure.”<br/><br/>“You work so hard, sir. I really think you ought to rest, especially tonight.”<br/><br/>Gabriel ignored her. “Good night, Nathalie,” he said, tapping the red phone icon. The call ended and his assistant vanished.<br/><br/>Body heavy and shoulders sagging, Gabriel dragged himself over to Emilie’s painting again. He took solace in her serene face but wondered how much longer he could keep things up. The world seemed to insist that he move on, but he refused. His wife meant more to him than life itself.<br/><br/>A buzz echoed through the house. Gabriel was so used to ignoring it and allowing Nathalie or the bodyguard to answer the intercom and see who was outside their gate that he didn’t make a move until it was already too late. He rushed out of the atelier suspecting Adrien was letting in more carolers. Sure enough, the boy was already exiting Nathalie’s office, positively glowing with happiness.<br/><br/>“Adrien!” he barked as his son crossed the foyer in front of a partially decorated Christmas tree. “What have I told you about opening the gate for strangers!?”<br/><br/>“But they’re not strangers, Father!” said the boy excitedly, sliding across the marble floor in his ridiculous reindeer socks as he reached for the front door. “They’re family!” He heaved the door open, pushing it wide. “Welcome!” he shouted out into the swirling snow.<br/><br/>For one brief moment, Gabriel’s mind played tricks on him as Emilie, wrapped in a fur coat, came trundling up the steps, snowflakes peppering her hair and eyelashes. It was impossible. No, it was a Christmas miracle! But then she was joined by a boy with a puffy face and slicked-back blonde hair who had more than a passing resemblance to Adrien. Gabriel’s hands curled into fists.<br/><br/><em>Amélie and Félix</em>, he realized.<br/><br/>He marched up to the door, furious. “What is the meaning of this!?” he demanded as Amélie waved at the taxi that had deposited them on his doorstep. It honked its horn in friendly goodbye as it slowly pulled away from the curb. In was one of the few cars still out and about, the streets silent with a thick layer of snow.<br/><br/>“Merry Christmas to you too, Gabriel,” Amélie said with her signature breeziness.<br/><br/>“Isn’t it great, Father?” asked Adrien. “Félix texted me earlier about sending us a Christmas surprise, but I didn’t know it was a visit from him and Aunt Amélie until I saw them at the gate!”<br/><br/>Gabriel blocked the way just as Amélie made a move to step inside. “No,” he said, glaring at Félix. “I will not allow this little thief back into my home.”<br/><br/>Félix, for his part, at least looked a little chastened, but before he could admit to his guilt, Amélie piped up.<br/><br/>“Thief?” she asked, putting a protective hand on her son’s shoulder. “Whatever are you talking about?”<br/><br/>“This boy of yours stole my wedding band the last time he was here,” said Gabriel, shoving his hand out to show them the mark where it had once been. “You know, the one you wanted back?”<br/><br/>The woman laughed. “Gabriel, that’s ridiculous! Félix would never do such a thing!”<br/><br/>“He impersonated my son and tried to ruin his friendships, didn’t he? Stealing from me isn’t so far of a stretch.”<br/><br/>“You probably just lost it and are looking for someone to blame. But it’s okay. I forgive you. It is almost Christmas, after all. Now are you going to let us in or not?” The woman gave a dramatic shiver as she tried to stomp some feeling back into her feet. “It’s cold out here.”<br/><br/>Gabriel slammed the door shut in her face.<br/><br/>“Father!” cried Adrien, scrambling to open it again, but Gabriel slapped his son’s hand away.<br/><br/>“It’s very rude of them to show up unannounced,” Gabriel explained.<br/><br/>The door that lead to the kitchen swung open. Gabriel turned to find Adrien’s bodyguard holding two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and wearing a frilly apron decorated with dancing gingerbread men. He gasped when he saw Gabriel and quickly put the mugs down on the coffee table to stand at attention.<br/><br/>“Good, you’re here,” Gabriel said to him, choosing to ignore the apron. “I have two trespassers I’d like you to remove from the premise.”<br/><br/>The hulking man gave a grunt of understanding, pushed up his sleeves, and headed towards the front door. Gabriel smoothly stepped out of the way, but Adrien refused to move.<br/><br/>“You can’t!” complained Adrien. “They’re family! It’s Christmas Eve! Where else are they supposed to go?”<br/><br/>The bodyguard drew back, mouth agape.<br/><br/>“Perhaps they should’ve thought of that before they became an imposition,” said Gabriel. He glared at the bodyguard and jerked his head in the direction of the door. With an apologetic sigh, the oaf picked Adrien up and moved him out of the way. When he opened the door, Adrien tried to escape, but Gabriel grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him back, shoving the door closed.<br/><br/>“Enough of this, Adrien!” he complained. “Go to your room this instant or you’re not going back to school when break is over!”<br/><br/>Adrien seemed to sense that Gabriel would make good on that threat as he had done so in the past and the fight left him completely. With a look halfway between frustration and utter despair, he turned and ran up the stairs without another word.<br/><br/>“Good riddance,” muttered Gabriel as he glanced back over his shoulder at the front door. A lookalike of his wife and son were the last things he needed tonight.<br/><br/>Suddenly, Gabriel felt an intense, almost painful heat bloom from the front of his chest. He pushed his tie out of the way to find the Butterfly Miraculous glowing a brilliant purple. Homing in on the feelings of rage and betrayal, he smiled. Shattered belief. Intense hatred. Burning jealousy. It was everything he had been hoping for in a Christmas Eve Akuma. He quickly made for his secret lair to take advantage of it.<br/><br/><em>Soon</em>, he promised his wife’s painted face.<br/><br/>This would be his most powerful Akuma yet, and Ladybug and Chat Noir wouldn’t stand a chance.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>“I really am very sorry, Félix,” said his mom as they trudged through knee-deep snow, struggling to drag their suitcases. Neither of them was wearing the correct footwear for the weather—both of their shoes were completely soaked through now.<br/><br/>Félix said nothing as he silently seethed. His mom had been so sure her plan would work, and he had trusted her like a foolish child. He wanted to put up more of a fight when his Uncle’s bodyguard escorted them off the property, but she insisted they leave peaceably. She was tired and didn’t want to cause a scene. At least her behavior was excusable though. It was his Uncle’s actions that really stoked his ire. He was a monster for turning them away on Christmas Eve, into a snowstorm with no place to go. Apparently, there was a hotel nearby, which they were heading to now, but it was the principal of the matter. Félix’s Uncle was heartless and deserved nothing but pain and misery.<br/><br/>Félix was currently so cold and miserable that he wished he were dead. In fact, it almost felt like he was—he and his mom were the only ones out on the eerily quiet Parisian streets. The snow must’ve driven everyone else inside where they could be safe and warm. It just wasn’t fair!<br/><br/>His suitcase caught on something and he stumbled back into the snow.<br/><br/>“Félix!” cried his mom, trying to help him, but he pushed her away and tugged at his bag, harder and harder. The zipper ripped and most of his clothes came spilling out. Growling, he shoved them back in and tried to continue to pull his suitcase, but they just fell out again. Frustrated, he picked up the whole thing and threw it, the decorative chain breaking off in his hand due to the cold.<br/><br/>“This is so stupid!” he yelled. “This is the worst! Christmas! Ever!”<br/><br/>His mom didn’t know what to say. She just looked at him guiltily as her chin began to quiver. Félix could tell she blamed herself and was close to tears.<br/><br/>“It’s not your fault, Mom,” he insisted. “Uncle is just a…just a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous jerk!” He heard something strange, like a flapping of book pages, but he was on a roll now. “He’s mean and hard and selfish, and-and he ruined our Christmas! And if I had the power to make him pay for how he treated us, to make him suffer, I would!”<br/><br/>“Félix!” his Mom cried again, but this time in abject fear. She pointed at a black butterfly with purple markings on its wings, dodging thick snowflakes as it fluttered towards them.<br/><br/>Somewhere in the distance, a voice called out to them: “Look out!”<br/><br/>It was too late. While Félix struggled through the snow to get away with the help of his mom, the Akuma flew into the chain he still had clutched in his hand. Pink light shined in his eyes as a buttery voice whispering in his mind.<br/><br/>“Hello, Christmas Spirit. I am Hawk Moth,” it said. “Some people just don’t understand the true meaning of Christmas, of generosity and brotherly love. So, I’m giving you the ability to force them to see the error of their ways and scare them straight, or else suffer a great consequence. All I ask for in return is a little Christmas gift of my own: Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.”<br/><br/>A dark shape landed in a snowdrift about a block away. Chat Noir’s head popped out and he shook the snow from his hair and ears.<br/><br/>“Don’t give in!” he cried, fighting through the snow towards them, eventually using his extendable baton to boost out. Félix distantly realized the superhero was the one who had called out the warning. “Fight Hawk Moth off!”<br/><br/>But Félix didn’t want to. Hawk Moth’s words were too enticing.<br/><br/>“Bah!” he said. “I’m going to haunt my humbug of an Uncle, and you can’t stop me!”<br/><br/>Then he threw out his arms and allowed the transformation to take hold.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Adrien skidded to a halt right in front of his cousin, too late to stop him from getting Akumatized. If only he had acted sooner! He was thinking he could sneak his aunt and cousin into his bedroom as Chat Noir on ‘Adrien’s’ behest. It was on the opposite side of his house and his father never came to visit. They could have their own little Christmas Eve celebration in his room—it certainly was decorated for it. But by the time Plagg helped him come up with this plan and he transformed into Chat Noir to go after them, an Akuma already had its sights set of Felix. Not that Adrien could blame his cousin. Adrien’s father had really crossed the line by sending them away.<br/><br/>Adrien turned to his aunt. “Get out of here!” he said, trying to herd her away.<br/><br/>The woman was frozen in shock. “But…my son…!”<br/><br/>The magical dark purple ether surrounding Felix dissipated. He looked much as he had before—slacks, button-up shirt, vest, tweet jacket, plaid scarf—but now he was translucent. The broken chain from his luggage was much larger and longer, roped around his middle and trailing behind him like a tail. Around his head and chin was tied a piece of fabric.<br/><br/>“Félix!” cried Adrien’s aunt. She made a move to grab her son only for her hand to go right through him.<br/><br/>The Akuma turned to her. “Don’t worry, Mom,” he said, grabbing her wrist. White light began to pour into her. “I’ll turn you into a Christmas Spirit too and we can haunt Uncle together!”<br/><br/>“N-no!” cried the woman, struggling to wrench free, but there was no body to brace herself against and she slipped on the icy ground.<br/><br/>“Let go of her!” demanded Adrien, swinging his baton at the Akuma. It went right through him.<br/><br/>“I’ll be back for you later,” said the Akuma.<br/><br/>“Don’t!” begged Adrien, but the Akuma was lifting Aunt Amélie into the air now. They swirled around, almost like a Kwami getting sucked into a Miraculous, and vanished in a puff of sulfuric smoke. Adrien was left alone on the snowy street.<br/><br/>Panic set in quickly. The first thing Adrien did was check the time on his baton. It was 22:37. Okay. Okay. So that gave him almost three and a half hours to do something about this Akuma. The next thing he did was call Ladybug. It predictably went to her voicemail.<br/><br/>“Merry Christmas, My Lady!” he told her warmly, trying his best to keep his voice calm and casual. After all, who was Gabriel Agreste to Chat Noir? “I know you’re probably busy with family stuff, but we have a bit of a <em>paw</em>blem. Remember Félix, Adrien Agreste’s cousin? He’s in town and he’s gotten Akumatized into some sort of…Christmas Spirit? Who can turn others into Christmas Spirits too? I dunno. I couldn’t even <em>scratch</em> him. Anyway, he’s targeting Gabriel Agreste, so come to the Agreste Mansion if you can. That’s where I’ll be. Cat out!”<br/><br/>Adrien was already making his way back to the house before he even finished the message. He had to get to his father, now. It was like Simon Says all over again.<br/><br/>Bursting through the front doors, Adrien scared his poor bodyguard just as the man was putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree. He bobbled the glass blown ornament but managed to keep it from shattering on the ground.<br/><br/>“Mr. Agreste is in danger from an Akuma again!” Adrien shouted at him. “Engage the self-defense system!” He wasn’t sure if it would help, but it was worth a shot.<br/><br/>His bodyguard nodded and barreled into the atelier to warn Adrien’s father. Adrien expected a robotic voice over the intercom to announce that a lockdown had been engaged and for metal to slide over the windows, but nothing happened. Confused, he headed into the atelier himself only to bump into his bodyguard. The poor man was looking about wildly.<br/><br/>“Huh?” wondered Adrien, scanning the empty room. His father’s workstation was still on, which wasn’t a good sign. He never left the room without turning it off first. “Where is he?” he demanded. “The Akuma didn’t get to him already, did it?”<br/><br/>Some horrible thought occurred to Adrien’s bodyguard, judging by the pained and anxious look on his face. He dashed out of the room. Adrien followed and watched the man book it up the stairs to Adrien’s bedroom.<br/><br/><em>Oh, no!</em> thought Adrien. He didn’t want his bodyguard to worry about him. He raced across the foyer to the kitchen, detransforming there.<br/><br/>“What’s the big idea? The Akuma—” started Plagg, but he paused when he sniffed the air. “Oh, my! What’s that delectable scent!?” he wondered, licking his chops as he flew around in a tight circle.<br/><br/>“Your Christmas gift,” said Adrien as he opened up a cabinet and pulled out a mug. He opened another to reveal a wide variety of cocoa packets and selected his favorite.<br/><br/>“Aw! You shouldn’t have!” said the Kwami.<br/><br/>“But you can’t open it until Christmas.”<br/><br/>“Really? Not even a nibble?”<br/><br/>Adrien’s bodyguard came rushing into the kitchen, causing Plagg to vanish. As soon as the man’s eyes fell on Adrien, he gripped his heart and nearly collapsed before smiling with relief.<br/><br/>“Sorry! Sorry!” cried Adrien. “I know I’m supposed to be in my room, but I wanted some hot cocoa. What’s going on? Chat Noir just came running through here, shouting something about securing a perimeter. Is there an Akuma?”<br/><br/>His bodyguard didn’t seem inclined to answer. He gently ushered Adrien out of the room.<br/><br/>“Uh…Why is the door to my father’s atelier open?” he wondered.<br/><br/>The bodyguard still said nothing, so Adrien planted his feet and looked the towering man in the eye.<br/><br/>“Where’s my father?” Adrien demanded. “Is an Akuma after him again!?”<br/><br/>The bodyguard seemed poised to lie but hung his head instead. Adrien drew back, taking his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up his contact list and selected his father. He half expected to hear a ring from somewhere inside the house, but it was as eerily quiet as the snowy streets outside. Instead, Adrien’s phone rang and rang and rang.<br/><br/>“He’s not picking up,” said Adrien, his voice tight. “And it’s not going to voicemail either.”<br/><br/>He paused, tapping his phone to his chin as he thought about where his father could possibly be. An idea occurred to him and he took the stairs two at a time up to Nathalie’s room. He knew the woman was recovering from a pretty serious illness and shouldn’t be bothered, but he was desperate. He knocked on her door softly.<br/><br/>“Who is it?” came the muffled but familiar no-nonsense voice.<br/><br/>“It’s me,” said Adrien.<br/><br/>“Come in.”<br/><br/>Adrien opened the door and frowned. His father wasn’t there either.<br/><br/>“I was just about to turn in for the night,” said Nathalie from her bed, but she squinted through her glasses and took note of his face. “Something wrong, Adrien?” she wondered.<br/><br/>“It’s Father!” he explained, avoiding the papers that littered the wood floor as he rushed to the woman’s bedside. Her white duvet was covered with books, her tablet on her lap. Seemed she was keeping busy during her downtime. “Chat Noir was just here saying an Akuma’s after him and he’s not in his atelier!”<br/><br/>“Calm down,” the woman commanded, not unkindly. “I’m sure your father is fine. Did you check his bedroom?”<br/><br/>“Er…”<br/><br/>Adrien was a little too embarrassed to admit that he had not.<br/><br/>“Why don’t you check there, and I’ll check the security cameras?” she suggested, patting her tablet. She looked over at Adrien’s shoulder at his bodyguard. “You go with him. If there’s an Akuma about, I don’t want any harm to come to Adrien.”<br/><br/>“Thanks, Nathalie,” said Adrien, meaning it with every fiber of his being. He could see why his father relied so much on her. She was always steady in a crisis.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Standing in his secret lair, Gabriel growled as he flipped open the stone atop his cane.<br/><br/>“What is it?” he demanded. “I’m busy.”<br/><br/>“It’s Adrien, sir,” said Nathalie over the cane’s intercom. “He’s looking for you.”<br/><br/>“So?”<br/><br/>“Chat Noir told him an Akuma is after you, so he’s worried sick.”<br/><br/>“I learned my lesson after Simon Says, Nathalie. If the Akuma is after Gabriel Agreste, it’s in my best interest to remain as Hawk Moth.”<br/><br/>“I understand that sir, but I am at a loss on how to explain your absence to him on Christmas Eve with the weather like this. He might call the police, they might come search the house—you don’t need that kind of scrutiny.”<br/><br/>“True.” He looked out at the icy winter wonderland outside the circular window of his lair and sighed. “You win, Nathalie. I’ll show Adrien that I’m fine, put the house on lockdown, and send him to bed. That should be enough to appease him.”<br/><br/>“I’m having him check your room now, but I can see from the security footage that he never checked the downstairs powder room.”<br/><br/>“Understood. Dark Wings Fall!”<br/><br/>De-transforming, Gabriel walked over to the circle on the ground just outside of his pool of light, Nooroo phasing into his suit jacket pocket. Once he was in position, the elevator platform lowered into the ground, whisking him back to his atelier. He stealthy left the room and moved across the foyer, hearing voices drift down from above. He locked himself in the powder room, flushed the toilet, and began to wash his hands. Outside the door, there were pounding footsteps, little ones and big ones, as two people came down the stairs.<br/><br/>“Father?” Adrien called out.<br/><br/>Gabriel opened the door and scowled. “I thought I told you to go to your—oof!”<br/><br/>Adrien had all but tackled him with a hug. “Thank goodness!” said the boy. “I thought something horrible had happened to you! There’s an Akuma that's after you again. Chat Noir told me.”<br/><br/>“Is that right?” said Gabriel, looking up at the bodyguard for confirmation. The man nodded solemnly. “Then we better engage the defense system.”<br/><br/>Crossing the foyer back to his atelier with his son and his bodyguard trailing, Gabriel flicked through the screens on his computer, pulling up the emergency defense system. He activated it using his handprint.<br/><br/>“Lockdown engaged,” said a voice as the screen turned red and metal plates came down over all the windows.<br/><br/>“We’ll be safe in here,” Gabriel assured Adrien.<br/><br/>The lights flickered and then shut off, the red emergency lights springing on and giving everything a hellish glow. The three of them looked around in confusion.<br/><br/>“Are you so sure?” taunted a voice.<br/><br/>They spun around to find Christmas Spirit gliding out of Emilie’s painting. Gabriel cursed under his breath. He should’ve never allowed Nathalie to talk him into de-transforming! It wasn’t worth the risk. It was too late now though.<br/><br/>Adrien blinked at the Akuma, recognition slowly dawning on him. “Félix?” he asked.<br/><br/>“More like…Félix’s ghost,” said the Akuma as he floated forward.<br/><br/>“Don’t be preposterous,” said Gabriel. “You’re not a ghost, but an Akuma, and you’re upset I wouldn’t let you and your mother in. I’ll have you know that this little show of yours will <em>not</em> change my mind.”<br/><br/>This was apparently the wrong thing to say. Christmas Spirit tilted his head back and gave an inhuman wail, his chains rattling of their own accord. One of his abilities was fear inducement, but even though Gabriel knew this, it didn’t stop a sympathetic response. His knees went weak and he nearly collapsed. Behind him, Adrien took a few shaky steps back, and the lumbering oaf of a bodyguard screamed like a little girl and curled up into a shivering ball on the floor.<br/><br/>To make his appearance all the more frightening, Christmas Spirit whipped off the fabric he had tied around his head, causing his jaw to distend by about a foot. It bounced and twisted against his chest as he continued to scream. Gabriel’s legs gave way and he fell to his knees, but he still remained defiant.<br/><br/>“What do you want with me?” he wondered.<br/><br/>Christmas Spirit pushed his mouth back into place and clenched his jaw to tie it up again so he could speak.<br/><br/>“I’ve come to deliver the consequences of your actions. See this chain I wear?” He rattled it. “It’s a heavy burden. I know I am not without fault. But your punishment will be so much worse.”<br/><br/>Gabriel raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Is that so?”<br/><br/>“Yes,” said the Akuma bluntly. “Your problem is you have no remorse for your actions. You think they are justified. You are a powerful man, so few people can tell you otherwise. But I can. That’s why I’m here.”<br/><br/>“No. You’re here because you threw a little temper tantrum in the snow and attracted the attention of Hawk Moth. This power you have isn’t yours, and Hawk Moth can take it away from you at any time.”<br/><br/>“Father…” warned Adrien weakly, but Gabriel waved him off. He wasn’t about to let this Akuma get the best of him. He created him!<br/><br/>“You’re nothing but a puppet,” he explained. “A pawn in Hawk Moth’s scheme.”<br/><br/>This frustrated the Akuma to no end. He screamed and clanked his chains.<br/><br/>“Silence!” he yelled. “I will get Hawk Moth his Miraculous, but not until the clock strikes three.”<br/><br/>“I doubt a man like that likes to be kept waiting,” said Gabriel.<br/><br/>“It’s all part of my plan. If Hawk Moth is patient, we’ll both get what we want. I’ll kill two birds with one stone.”<br/><br/>This was news to Gabriel. So whatever Christmas Spirit intended to do to him involved defeating Ladybug and Chat Noir? It was an interesting thought. Maybe he should let this play out. After all, it wasn’t like he was in any <em>real</em> danger. He could change back into Hawk Moth and remove Félix’s Akuma whenever he wanted.<br/><br/>“You always were a chess master and a master magician,” he observed.<br/><br/>“Flattery will get you nowhere!” said the Akuma, his chain whipping out and striking the area right at Gabriel’s feet. The marble cracked from the impact. “But charity, mercy, forbearance, benevolence—that is what I want to see. I don’t think you can manage it though with that cold, empty heart of yours.”<br/><br/>Gabriel glared, but said nothing. This Akuma had no idea the depths of his heart! Everything he had done as Hawk Moth was done for love of his family, so he could have his wife back and Adrien his mother.<br/><br/>“My mom and I came to you in our moment of need and you turned us away,” continued Christmas Spirit. “Did you know we were stranded here because of the snow?”<br/><br/>“Oh...” said Adrien, his voice breaking. “I thought…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”<br/><br/>“There are hotels,” Gabriel pointed out.<br/><br/>“It’s Christmas Eve!” roared the Akuma.<br/><br/>“So?”<br/><br/>“So!? Does the day mean nothing to you?”<br/><br/>“Not particularly. The sun comes up and the sun goes down like on any other day—there is nothing innately special about it. It only has meaning because people ascribe it meaning.”<br/><br/>“Maybe it has no meaning to you, but it does for everyone else. But you don’t care, do you? What does it matter to you, how other people feel? Their feelings are of no concern to you because you only care about yourself!”<br/><br/>“How <em>dare</em> you!” cried Gabriel, gathering the strength to rise back on to his feet. “I care about my son!”<br/><br/>“Oh, really?” Christmas Spirit glided over to Adrien, swirling around him. Adrien gulped and stood stock-still, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. “So, if it came down to me haunting you or haunting your son, you would rather it be you?”<br/><br/>“Without question.”<br/><br/>Even though he was terrified, Adrien managed a shaky smile. Christmas Spirit left the boy and floated before Gabriel.<br/><br/>“Because it’s almost Christmas, which <em>does</em> mean something to me, I’m feeling generous. I’m going to give you a chance and hope of escaping your terrible fate. Three of my Spirits are going to pay you a little visit tonight.”<br/><br/>Gabriel frowned. “<em>That’s</em> the chance and hope you mentioned? Sending your underlings after me?”<br/><br/>Christmas Spirit ignored him. “One will come at midnight, the next at one o’clock, and the last at two o’clock.”<br/><br/>“What a waste of my time. Just send them all at once.”<br/><br/>Again, he was ignored. “When I return for you at three o’clock, I better see a changed man, or you will pay dearly for your transgressions.”<br/><br/>“Please don’t!” begged Adrien. “I know Father can be harsh sometimes, but—"</p><p>Christmas Spirit pointed at Adrien and one of his chains whipped out and wrapped itself around the boy’s mouth, silencing him.<br/><br/>“Not another word from you!” the Akuma insisted. “You are too kind and forgiving for your own good. This is your father’s penitence. Let him carry it. And who knows? Maybe he’ll learn to be a better man. Maybe...he'll be redeemed.” He released Adrien, who stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. “…But I doubt it.”<br/><br/>Then the Akuma swirled around like he had before and disappeared in a puff of smoke.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The First of the Three Spirits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The lights came back on and the dread that had kept Adrien rooted to the spot ebbed away. He jumped up and ran to his father, but the man drew away as he addressed Adrien’s bodyguard.<br/><br/>“Take Adrien to his room and bar the door. Make sure nothing gets to him.”<br/><br/>“But Father!” Adrien complained. “What about you?”<br/><br/>“I will put my faith in Ladybug and Chat Noir. I’m sure they’ll have this Akuma defeated before midnight.”<br/><br/>Adrien glanced at his watch. It was a little after eleven. Almost Christmas. That didn’t give him and his Lady a lot of time.</p><p>“But what if they don’t?” he wondered.</p><p>“Then I guess we’ll see.”<br/><br/>It boggled Adrien’s mind how his father could be so calm at a time like this. <em>Wow</em>, he thought. <em>Father must trust Chat Noir and Ladybug a whole lot! I can’t let him down.</em> He allowed himself to be lead away, but mostly because it would be easier for him to escape.<br/><br/>When Adrien entered his room, his bodyguard followed and shut the door behind him, locking it.<br/><br/>“I think I’m going to take a long shower,” Adrien told him. “But, uh…here!” He went across the room to the small tree he had set up in the corner. Beneath it were presents for his family. He picked up the one for his bodyguard, wrapped in paper covered with large, jolly Santas and topped with a big red bow. “Merry Christmas!”<br/><br/>Touched, his bodyguard pointed to himself as if not believing Adrien would get him anything, like he did every year. When Adrien laughed and nodded, the man tore into the gift.<br/><br/>It took a moment for him to realize what Adrien had gotten him, but, once he did, his heavily-lidded eyes welled up with tears. It was a custom superhero figure, made to look like the man himself. Stronger than a gorilla, he was…THE BODYGAURD.<br/><br/>The man reached for Adrien and wrapped him up in an almost bone-crushing hug.<br/><br/>“Oh! Glad you like it,” said Adrien, patting him on the back. The man released Adrien and lumbered over to sit on the couch to staring at the action figure in loving wonderment, moving the poseable arms and legs. “I’m going to take that shower now,” said Adrien, slipping away without the bodyguard even really noticing.<br/><br/>In the bathroom, Plagg phased out of Adrien’s pajama shirt with his nubby little arms crossed. “Oh, so <em>he</em> gets his present early, but <em>I</em> have to wait until tomorrow?”<br/><br/>“I had to distract him somehow,” Adrien explained as he turned on the shower. “We need to get out of here and stop that Akuma. Ready?”<br/><br/>“I guess…”<br/><br/>“Great! Then…Plagg, claws out!”<br/><br/>With an annoyed sigh, the Kwami allowed himself to get sucked into Adrien’s ring. Adrien transformed into Chat Noir and tip-toed up to the bathroom window and opened it. Behind it was the cold metal of the shutter. He held up his hand.<br/><br/>“Cataclysm!” he said, shoving the dark orb of destructive energy against it. The metal turned to rust and then fell apart. Adrien escaped, closing the window behind him.<br/><br/>“Chat!”<br/><br/>Adrien turned to find a spot of red among the world of white. Ladybug was standing on top of the fence that surrounded the property, looking like an angel with her hair peppered with snowflakes. He went over to her, expecting a kind and merry greeting, but received her frantic questions instead.<br/><br/>“Is Adrien Agreste in there? Is he okay!?”<br/><br/>“Aren’t you going to wish me a Meowy Christmas first, My Lady?”<br/><br/>“I’m serious, Chat! Tell me!”<br/><br/>“Do you think I would’ve left his side if he wasn’t?” said Adrien, face falling a little as his ring beeped. “He’s fine. The Akuma isn’t after him anyway.”<br/><br/>“So you said in your message,” said Ladybug, waving her yo-yo. “But you just put a hole in Gabriel Agreste’s defense system.”<br/><br/>Adrien shrugged. “It wouldn’t have stopped the Akuma anyway. Walls don’t mean much to a ghost. At least now we have a way in and out if we need it.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, but you’re going to change back soon.” The girl scanned the area. “It’s way too cold for you to recharge outside. Let’s get you someplace warm.”<br/><br/>“Good idea, My Lady.” Adrien took out his baton and extended it, grabbing Ladybug’s wrist as they shot up into the air together. As he balanced against his weapon, she sat on his knee. “And what would you like for Christmas, little lady?” he joked in a deep voice, but her glare made him switch back to business. “Maybe there?” he suggested, pointing to Marinette’s house. The light was still on in her upstairs bedroom.<br/><br/>“That…bakery?” wondered Ladybug.<br/><br/>“That’s where Marinette lives. You know Marinette. We can get to her room from the roof. Looks like she’s still up. I’m sure she won’t mind.”<br/><br/>“But what if she sees who you are?”<br/><br/>“Don’t worry!” Adrien slid down his baton like a fireman's pole, Ladybug following suit. He grabbed her hand and helped her back onto the top of the fence as he shrunk his weapon down to its original size. “I trust Marinette with my life.”<br/><br/>Ladybug grinned. “All right, then. Let’s go!”<br/><br/>Now it was Adrien’s turn to hold on to Ladybug as she used her yo-yo to snag the nearest rooftop and drag them to it. They vaulted over chimneys as they made their way along. When they reached Marinette’s balcony, Adrien was delighted to find it shoveled and decorated with holiday greenery. There were even carrots left out for Santa’s reindeer with only a slight dusting of snow on them. Marinette must’ve only just left them out.<br/><br/>Ladybug marched over to the hatch and knocked on it. When there was no answer, she knocked on it again. She tried opening it and found it unlocked.<br/><br/>“Marinette?” she called. She dropped down onto the bed and then the floor to have a look around. Adrien peered down after her. The room was a mess, the bed unmade, the floor covered in pieces of wrapping paper and unspooled ribbons. “Huh,” said Ladybug, hands on her hips. “She must be downstairs.”<br/><br/>“Should we try somewhere else?” Adrien wondered.<br/><br/>“We shouldn’t be long. Why don’t I guard the top of the stairs in case she comes back?”<br/><br/>Adrien entered the room, careful to close the trapdoor after him so it wouldn’t snow on Marinette’s bed. “Sounds good!”<br/><br/>“Let me know when you’re done,” said Ladybug as she scurried down the steps, pulling the trapdoor down over her.<br/><br/>Adrien tucked himself away in the corner under the lofted bed, by Marinette’s desk. “Claws in,” he said, his black suit vanishing in a flash of green light.<br/><br/>As Plagg shoved a slice of Camembert into his mouth whole, Adrien looked around. He frowned when he noticed that a lot of his pictures had been removed. He thought he was Marinette’s fashion inspiration and was a little bummed to see that he apparently wasn’t anymore.</p><p>He decided to occupy himself while Plagg ate by writing Marinette a note in case they missed her.<br/><br/><em>Used your room to recharge. -CN </em>/ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\<br/><br/>After a bit of thought, he added to it.<br/><br/><em>P.S. – Adrien told me all about how his father won’t let him spend Christmas with you and your family. I’m sorry to hear that! I hope he can come to your house next year.<br/><br/></em>He transformed back once Plagg was ready. Seemed his note was necessary since Marinette never came back up. He and Ladybug left without seeing her. Out on her balcony, Adrien caught Ladybug up on everything he and ‘Adrien’ had seen and heard.<br/><br/>“Interesting,” said the girl, grabbing onto the railing and looking out over the city. It looked like something out of a Christmas card, filled with twinkling lights. “So, we have until three o’clock to find and stop this Akuma.”<br/><br/>“But those other spirits are going to start visiting m—Mr. Agreste at midnight!”<br/><br/>“That still gives us time, Kitty. You last saw the Akuma at the Agreste Mansion, right? Let’s start there. I doubt he would’ve gone too far.”</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Gabriel prepared for bed, washing his face and brushing his teeth. He thought about putting on his pajamas but decided against it. He didn’t want to look silly when the first spirit came. Instead, he reclined on his four-poster bed fully clothed, reading the latest issue of <em>Style Queen</em>. The trend for the holiday season? Black.<br/><br/>He didn’t remember if and when he fell asleep, only that he heard the bells of Notre Dame begin to toll. Rather than count them, he looked at his phone. It was midnight. Out of habit, he looked towards the window only to see metal beyond the glass.<br/><br/>He contemplated transforming back into Hawk Moth and removing Félix’s Akuma. This was his last chance before everything started, after all. It seemed like such a waste though. The boy’s emotions had been so rich in negativity. Truly he was the perfect Akuma, the one who would bring him Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous. He just had to be patient.<br/><br/>The final bell tolled—deep, dull, hollow, and melancholy. Gabriel held his breath and waited.<br/><br/>And waited.<br/><br/>And waited.<br/><br/>He scoffed. “So much for that,” he murmured to himself.<br/><br/>As if fate had been waiting for a verbal cue, there was a flash of light and the curtains of Gabriel’s bed were all drawn closed.<br/><br/>The emergency lights were on again, the slit on one side of the bed glowing red. There seemed to be a bright light glowing on the other side though. Gabriel threw those curtains open to face his first spirit.<br/><br/>It was <em>The Woman in Gold</em> come to life. Her dress shone like the sun, the eyes and triangles pattern like sunspots marring the surface. Little diamond stars floated around her head and surrounded her neck. Gabriel was never one to make the same mistake twice though. Looking at the eyes and the hair, he confirmed that this spirit was not his beloved Emilie returned to him.<br/><br/>“Amélie,” he greeted stiffly.<br/><br/>“I am Amélie no more,” said the woman, her voice different. She still sounded like herself, but softer. Gentler. Almost as if she were speaking from a distance. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. Specifically…your past.”<br/><br/>It made sense, in an odd way. What better way for Christmas Spirit to torment him than with visions of Emilie? He lifted a hand to cover his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at her.<br/><br/>“Why do you shield yourself from me?” wondered the ghost.<br/><br/>“You’re too bright,” Gabriel complained. “Can’t you dim yourself?”<br/><br/>“Dim myself! Of course you would ask for such a thing! You live in the dark, so it makes sense that you cannot handle the light. Well, I’m sorry to say, but you’re just going to have to make do, Gabriel. I’ve come here for a very specific reason—your welfare.”<br/><br/>“If that were true, you’d let me sleep.”<br/><br/>The ghost crossed her arms, unamused. “Fine, then. Your reclamation.” She reached forward and, before Gabriel could stop her, pulled him out of bed and onto his feet with surprising strength. “Come. We’re leaving,” she said, dragging him towards one of the windows.<br/><br/>“Good luck with that,” said Gabriel with a smirk. Sure, the ghost could bypass the lockdown, but he certainly couldn’t.<br/><br/>“Oh, Gabriel…” she said with a knowing laugh. She turned to face him and touched his chest where his heart was. A warming sensation spread from her fingertip and flooded his body, so unlike the heat of the Butterfly Miraculous when it sensed negativity. It was cozy, almost. Kind. Then, with a gentle tug, she started to pull him straight through the metal shutter.<br/><br/>“I’ll fall!” cried Gabriel as he struggled to pull away, but the ghost’s grip was like iron. He had no choice. He closed his eyes and prepared for the worst.<br/><br/>He expected the cold. He expected, well, gravity, seeing as how they were exiting a second-floor window.<br/><br/>He got neither.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Adrien and Ladybug had been searching Paris fruitlessly for almost an hour when the Akuma finally made an appearance. Ladybug spotted him standing on the roof of Notre Dame and they made a beeline for him just as the bells began to toll midnight. As they approached, he retreated into the north tower. They found him there, standing amongst the eight shining brass bells. Their ringing was so loud that Adrien and his partner had to cover their ears. At first, they were worried that this was a ploy for the Akuma to attack them while they couldn’t use their weapons, but he stood there peacefully among the rafters and held up a finger as if telling them to wait.<br/><br/>Adrien refused. With a flying kick, he tried to nail the Akuma in the face, but he sailed right through him. Ladybug tried attacking the Akuma as well with a few well-placed kicks, but he remained unaffected. They had no choice but to wait for the bells to finish.<br/><br/>“I’ve been expecting you,” said the Akuma. “My name is Christmas Spirit and I sense you two have plenty of it. I have no quarrel with you.”<br/><br/>“But you do with Gabriel Agreste!” Adrien pointed out. “Call off your Spirits!”<br/><br/>“They won’t harm him if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s with the Ghost of Christmas Past right now.”<br/><br/>“…Ghost of...what?”<br/><br/>Ladybug grabbed her yo-yo and got into a fighting stance. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’re after our Miraculous!”<br/><br/>“In time,” agreed Christmas Spirit. “But time…is a funny thing.”<br/><br/>His chains shot out and, for a moment, Adrien through the Akuma was going for his ring. The chain wrapped around his wrist though, the same thing happening to Ladybug.<br/><br/>“Hold on,” said the Akuma. “We’re going on a little trip."</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Eyes fluttering open, Gabriel was shocked to find himself on a busy Parisian street. It was day, with only a light dusting of snow on the ground rather than the blizzard he expected. People passed by, talking and laughing and discussing Christmas plans.<br/><br/>Before Gabriel sat a four-story concrete and glass building. From the front there appeared nothing special about it, but Gabriel knew the back was green and looked as if the top floor had melted in the form of geometric shapes. That side faced the Seine so those passing by on boats got to enjoy the artistry. Even though it was only two kilometers from his house, Gabriel had not returned here since he had left. In fact, he avoided it.<br/><br/>“This is the French Institute of Fashion,” said Gabriel. He was sure the building must’ve aged since he last saw it, but it looked exactly how he remembered it—large and imposing.<br/><br/>Gabriel suddenly took note of the cars parked on the street in front of him. Why were they all older models? When he stepped forward to get a better look at them though, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned too late. A bike messenger! …Passed right through him harmlessly.<br/><br/>Behind him, the Ghost of Christmas Past chuckled.<br/><br/>“These are just shadows of what has been,” she explained. “No one is aware of us.”<br/><br/>Gabriel did not like to be made to look a fool. He straightened his tie and glared at the ghost. “What year is it?”<br/><br/>“1992.”<br/><br/>“My first year here.”<br/><br/>Nodding, the ghost floated across the street, an ethereal beacon. Considering he wanted to escape this vision as soon as possible, Gabriel followed her, looking both ways before crossing the street, then sheepishly remembering he wasn’t actually there. A truck could probably drive right through him, though he wasn’t about to take that chance.<br/><br/>Just as they reached the front door, a gaggle of familiar young men and women exited the institute. Gabriel recognized them as some of his classmates, their names long forgotten. They were giving each other their goodbyes—it was apparently the first day of winter break.<br/><br/>“Everyone’s going home for Christmas,” observed the ghost. She locked eyes with Gabriel. “Except you.”<br/><br/>Gabriel avoided her gaze and pushed his way into the building, literally walking through the glass door.<br/><br/>“Do you remember the way?” wondered the ghost. Gabriel hadn’t sensed her following him, but there she was by his side.<br/><br/>“Of course. I could probably walk the institute blindfolded.” He spent so many days there, not to mention long nights. Every waking hour of every waking day, learning and working and striving to be remembered. To be the best.<br/><br/>He crossed cold concrete spaces with exposed ventilation, the walls decorated with color, of clothing concepts and fashion magazine covers. He climbed a wooden staircase ensconced in pipes painted lime green. Glass-walled rooms greeted him on the upper floors, filled with mannequins and tables littered with fabric. The lights were shutting off. Janitors were collecting garbage. People were going home.<br/><br/>At the very end of the hall, in one of the sewing rooms, sat a lanky young man still hard at work though, his crystalline eyes magnified by coke-bottle glasses. The clothes he wore were simple, second-hand even, and he looked a bit older than the other students. He also looked ill with his wispy blonde hair and pale skin. He muttered to himself darkly as he pulled whatever he was sewing to better examine the stitching.<br/><br/>The Ghost of Christmas Past waved her hand and a gorgeous baby blue ballgown appeared with ruched sleeves and an illusionary sweetheart neckline.<br/><br/>Gabriel’s breath caught. “My first dress inspired by Emilie!” he recognized. “I remember. I saw her outside the theatre. An absolute vision of striking beauty. Like a breath of fresh air or a sip of the freshest mountain spring. So effortless. So…so clear! In one instant I saw my destiny. To design for her. For her to model for me. I never thought I’d see her again, but then…” He grew quiet and somber. “I was lucky. So lucky. But even though I knew it, I didn’t appreciate it like I do now.”<br/><br/>“Do you envy him?” wondered the ghost, pointing to past Gabriel.<br/><br/>“No, I detest him! He’s going to have everything! And then lose everything! And there is nothing I can do about it.”<br/><br/>The ghost grimaced, clearly disappointed by his response. She waved her hand around. “Let’s look at another Christmas,” she suggested.</p><p>The room changed. The glass grew streaky, the floor worn. New sewing machines appeared to replace the old ones. Young Gabriel had aged. His clothes were nicer. He had found a way to style his hair that looked more sophisticated. The hunger in his eyes had only increased though, as had his mastery of the sewing machine. He was flying through fabric now, every stitch perfect. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even notice the petite blonde woman enter the room. Her outfit was impeccable—emerald heels and a matching jacquard pleated midi-skirt paired with a black knit sweater with a large decorate bow along the collar. She smiled at young Gabriel, waiting to be noticed.<br/><br/>“Look up, you imbecile!” Gabriel hissed at his past self.<br/><br/>Almost as if he had heard the words, young Gabriel did just that and his mouth fell open. “Emilie!” he cried, jumping from his seat as if he had sat on a pin. He desperately tried to recover. “What…what are you doing here?”<br/><br/>“I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up. What is the point of me buying you a cell phone if you aren’t going to use it?”<br/><br/>Whatever answer young Gabriel had got stuck in his throat. Emilie laughed to show she didn’t mind.<br/><br/>“Are you almost ready to go?” she wondered.<br/><br/>“Go? Go where?” asked young Gabriel.<br/><br/>“To my parents’ house.”<br/><br/>“Ah. Yes. The party…”<br/><br/>Emilie heaved a beleaguered but amused sigh. “You forgot, didn’t you?” She walked right up to him and put her arms around his neck. Young Gabriel stiffened, his cheeks filling with color. “You poor, poor man! You’ve spent so many Christmases alone, you don’t know what it’s like to spend it with other people! That’s okay. We can fix that.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and released him so he could quickly gather his things. And breathe. “Everyone’s going to love you, especially Audrey. She’s been dying to meet you ever since I wore that gold number of yours to the Night of the Molières.”<br/><br/>While she spoke, Gabriel from the current day stared at her, emotions welling up inside his chest. Here his Emilie was, young and so full of life. Yet he could not touch her, could not speak to her. He was cruelly forced to stand and watch as his fumbling younger self gathered his current work up in his arms and trailed after her silently as she continued to babble on about the party, her voice echoing down the hall and becoming a nearly forgotten memory.<br/><br/>“Emilie was so headstrong!” said the Ghost of Christmas Past. “But had a large heart.”<br/><br/>“There’s no denying that,” Gabriel admitted.</p><p>“Such a shame she’s gone now…though not entirely.”<br/><br/>Gabriel’s neck almost snapped as he turned to look at the ghost. How could she possibly know that!?<br/><br/>“A piece of her remains behind in your son Adrien,” explained the ghost.<br/><br/>“Oh.” The tension in Gabriel’s shoulder released. “Right.”<br/><br/>With the ghost leading the way, they left the Institute, but the street that greeted them outside wasn’t Parisian. They had apparently left France and traveled over the Atlantic Ocean to New York City in the blink of an eye. The Garment District, to be exact, judging by the statue of a giant needle threading a button across the street. It was just approaching evening and the streetlights sprung on alongside the Christmas lights in the trees. The street was gaudy with garland and other decorations.<br/><br/>The ghost strolled down the street about a block, Gabriel following, stopping in front of one of the shorter skyscrapers.<br/><br/>“Do you know where we are?” she wondered.<br/><br/>Gabriel nodded. “These are <em>Style Queen</em>’s old offices, on the second floor.”<br/><br/>They entered the building to find a Christmas party going on in the atrium, it’s decorations a feast for the eyes. Every square-inch of the room was covered in white fabric or fake snow, with ice sculptures and silver trees scattered about and silver ornaments hanging from the ceiling. Everything had to be white or silver that year, Gabriel remembered. That was the trend he had created— a modern take on the passé Winter Wonderland—and the one Audrey decided to espouse.<br/><br/>Audrey was at the door in a white skirt suit edged in white rabbit fur, sending one of her staff members away for not adhering to dress code.<br/><br/>“This is ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” she shouted. “I said silver or white, not silver AND white!”<br/><br/>Gabriel didn’t bother to stop as he made his way through the crowds of people, phasing through them like a Kwami. He arrived at the white dancefloor to find a six-piece jazz ensemble in white suits playing <em>The Christmas Waltz</em> on silver or white instruments. The throng had parted to watch an elegantly dressed couple dance.<br/><br/>It was him and Emilie. Emilie looked positively radiant in a one-shoulder floor-length sheath that glittered like freshly fallen snow. Young Gabriel had dressed in varying complementary shades of silver as to not detract from his now fiancée. They looked at one another as if they were the only ones in the room. Even present-day Gabriel felt a little embarrassed to witness such private looks in public.<br/><br/>Once the song finished, everyone applauded. Emilie curtsied politely while Gabriel slinked off towards the bar. Laughing, Emilie chased after him.<br/><br/>“Where are you going without me?” she wondered, grabbing his hand.<br/><br/>“To get you some water, my love,” Gabriel told her, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.<br/><br/>“I suppose I am rather parched…”<br/><br/>“Gabriel! Emilie!” shouted Audrey, catching sight of them. She swanned forward, a glass in her hand. “Isn’t this party simply marvelous?”<br/><br/>“No one throws them quite like you do,” said Emilie sweetly.<br/><br/>“And you, my dear friend…” Audrey grabbed Emilie’s hand and raised it up to spin her. “You’re the belle of the ball! Look at this dress. Not that I expected anything but the extraordinary from Gabriel. Looking at it makes me feel…like I’m opening my very first Barbie doll on Christmas Day!”<br/><br/>“Thank you again for flying Emilie out,” Gabriel said. “It means the world to me.”<br/><br/>“I didn’t do it for you. But I am happy, of course. You two enjoy yourselves and I—” The woman went rigid as she spotted someone across the room. “What is SHE doing here!? I specifically said—” She turned back to Emilie with a forced smile. “Excuse me,” she said. “I have an urgent matter I need to attend to.” Her face then warped and darkened with fury as she turned and marched away.<br/><br/>“That’s Audrey for you…” said the ghost.</p><p>Gabriel jumped a little. He had been so lost in the party, in watching him and Emilie be in love, that, for a moment, he had completely forgotten she was even there.<br/><br/>“It’s a wonder she even threw a party,” continued the ghost.<br/><br/>“Of course she threw one,” retorted Gabriel. “It’s an industry standard. Besides, it’s the least she can do with what she puts these poor people through year after year.”<br/><br/>“And did <em>Gabriel</em> or the Agreste Foundation have Christmas parties this year?”<br/><br/>Gabriel realized his mistake too late.<br/><br/>“…No,” he admitted sourly.<br/><br/>“But you just said—”</p><p>“I know what I just said!” said Gabriel. How dare he be compared to the bossy and demanding Audrey Bourgeois? This ghost was wearing down his patience and it was getting rather thin. “Now, are we done here?”<br/><br/>“Are you sure you don’t want to stay any longer?”<br/><br/>Gabriel watched his younger self chatting with his fiancée. She tossed her head back and laughed. Several men looked at her with hope in their eyes that clouded with jealousy as they saw young Gabriel take up her hand.<br/><br/>It was true. He didn’t want to leave this moment. But he wasn’t about to let the ghost know that.<br/><br/>“I’m sure,” he said, turning heel and storming towards the doors.<br/><br/>He never reached them. The party transformed around him, people vanishing one by one, the fake snow getting replaced by cool marble. He stopped, finding himself standing in the middle of the foyer of his home. He hadn’t been returned to the present day though. There was very little in the way of Christmas trimmings this time around, only an undecorated evergreen tree, set up so there would be a place to put presents.<br/><br/>Gabriel lifted his eyes to the large portrait above the stairs. It was the old one, the one of him, Emilie, and Adrien. He had it removed because he didn’t need a taunting reminder of the family they no longer were. If it were there though, that meant Emilie was also.<br/><br/>Rushing up the steps two at a time, Gabriel found Emilie exactly where he thought she would be, recovering from another one of her fainting spells in bed. He found his own self tending to her, lines of worry beginning to etch themselves permanently into his face.<br/><br/>It was starling to see how lifeless Emilie had become from just a moment ago. Over a decade had passed and her beauty had not tarnished, yet she was a shadow of her former self. Propped up by a voluminous pile of pillows, she struggled and failed to stay awake. As her eyes started to close, panic set in and past Gabriel grabbed her hands.<br/><br/>“Emilie! Emilie, stay with me, please!” he begged, on the verge of tears.<br/><br/>Her eyes fluttered back open. “We talked about this. All that matters is that Adrien is safe.”<br/><br/>“Forget about Adrien! What about you!?”<br/><br/>Emilie gave a small start and past Gabriel realized his mistake too late.<br/><br/>“I-I mean…” he backpedaled, but she was already pulling away from him, her brow wrinkled.<br/><br/>“Gabriel, he’s our son…How could you…?”<br/><br/>He grabbed her hands again. “I spoke out of turn, Emilie, my dear. I’m just so terrified of—”<br/><br/>Emilie looked him dead in the eye. “Let go of me.”<br/><br/>He did as she said.<br/><br/>“Everything I do, I do for him,” she said slowly. “But everything you do…you do for me…”<br/><br/>“You act as if that’s a bad thing. Should a man not love his wife?”<br/><br/>“A man should love his <em>family</em>.”<br/><br/>“I do!”<br/><br/>“Really? Because I wonder sometimes…”<br/><br/>“Emilie.” Past Gabriel rubbed his face as he tried to deal with the tumult of emotions whirling around inside of him. “You’re exhausted,” he decided. “And you know how dramatic you get when you’re exhausted. I love Adrien. I love you. There is no reason to believe otherwise.”<br/><br/>The woman struggled to turn away from him, eliciting more panic from past Gabriel. He jumped up from his seat and raced around the bed so he could face her.<br/><br/>“Forget I said anything!” he insisted.<br/><br/>“How can I?” wondered the woman. “Answer me honestly, Gabriel. If it came down to saving me or saving your son, who would you choose?”<br/><br/>“What a horrible thing to—”<br/><br/>“Answer…the question.”<br/><br/>Gabriel watched his past self pause to think carefully about his answer. “Whoever you wanted me to, darling,” he said, looking rather pleased with himself for skirting her question.<br/><br/>“No,” said the woman as sharply as she could. “Adrien. The answer is always Adrien.”<br/><br/>“Then I would choose Adrien!”<br/><br/>“You shouldn’t even have to think about it! When I married you, I thought, ‘This man loves me very much.’ But now I realize that you love me <em>too</em> much—”<br/><br/>“There is no such thing!”<br/><br/>“—and you are willing to sacrifice the world for me. You would even sacrifice our own son—”</p><p>“Never!”</p><p>“Then you will let me go? And protect him?”<br/><br/>Past Gabriel gritted his teeth and said nothing. Emilie continued.<br/><br/>“Maybe one day you will see things as I do. I can only hope. But as things stand now…I fear for the future. I fear who you will become in that future, without—”</p><p>“Don’t! Don’t say it!”<br/><br/>She ignored him. “Without me.”<br/><br/>And she began to cough.<br/><br/>Gabriel turned away from this scene, unable to handle it much longer. The Ghost of Christmas Past stood before him, a small but self-satisfied smile upon her face.<br/><br/>“Stop this!” he demanded. “Why do you delight in torturing me? Take me back to the present right this instant.”<br/><br/>“Oh, but I have one more shadow of the past to show you!” she said, unforgiving.</p><p>“No more! We’re finished. We’re done! Whatever you must show me, I don’t want to see it!”<br/><br/>He made a foolish attempt to attack the ghost, but like Christmas Spirit before her, she wasn’t corporeal. He fell through her and she had no trouble at all grabbing his arms and holding them behind his back. Gabriel struggled, but there was no breaking her grip. She forced him to march forward, back out the bedroom door and into the foyer.<br/><br/>It had been dark when they left, but now it was full of light. Adrien was down below, decorating the Christmas tree with the help of Nathalie on the stairs. Glancing at the change in portrait, Gabriel surmised this was last Christmas.<br/><br/>“Check it out, Nathalie,” Adrien said as he finished hanging an ornament. “Do you think he will like all the decorations?”<br/><br/>The front door opened and slammed shut, the bodyguard returning from outside with a present in his hands and a ridiculous down aviator cap on his head. Neither Nathalie nor Adrien seemed to notice.<br/><br/>“He should be down here already,” Adrien realized after a moment. “Did you call him?”<br/><br/>“Perhaps we should give him…a few more minutes,” said the woman diplomatically. Even so, it didn’t cushion the blow any. Adrien looked at the silver ornament in his hand as his face crumpled.<br/><br/>“What’s the point?” he decided bitterly. “He’s not coming.”<br/><br/>He went to trudge up the steps, his bodyguard stopping to hand him the present.<br/><br/>“Thank you,” Adrien managed. He headed upstairs, but turned at the last minute, recalling his manners. “Merry Christmas both of you.”<br/><br/>The ghost dragged Gabriel against his will after Adrien, but stopped short when the door was slammed in their faces. Gabriel could hear his son clear as day through the door though.<br/><br/>“He's still only thinking of himself!" yelled the boy. "I just want this terrible day to be over and done with! I hate Christmas!”<br/><br/>Gabriel was shocked for many reasons. One was that he couldn’t really remember the last time his son expressed anger, especially with such vehemence. The other was that his son loved Christmas. Always had. Why, just a few hours ago, the boy was wishing him multiple Merry Christmases with joyous abandon. How could that be if Adrien hated Christmas?<br/><br/>Gabriel craned his neck as he tried to address the Ghost of Christmas Past behind him. “You’ve tampered with this!”<br/><br/>She scoffed. “I have not! This is exactly what happened last year. It’s not my fault you took so long to see your son. He ran away because of you.”<br/><br/>“Stop this! Unhand me!” Gabriel began to struggle harder than he had before and, this time, the ghost relented and released him. He spun to face her. “Don’t haunt me anymore! You, wearing her face! How dare you!?” He began to bare down on her. She backed away from him, but her small, secretive smile remained painted on her face. “She was my wife and now she’s…gone. And you parade about, asking to stay the night on a day that has so many memories attached to it, as if you didn’t know what you were doing! Using her face against me. Did you think I would fall for it, Amélie? Did you think I would <em>soften</em>!?”<br/><br/>The ghost had pressed herself up against the wall now. There seemed to be no place for her to go.<br/><br/>“You disgust me!!!”<br/><br/>Gabriel paused and blinked, falling back in sudden terror.<br/><br/>He was standing in his darkened atelier, yelling at the portrait of his wife. He looked around wildly, but there was no ghost, no spirit.</p><p>He was alone.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>But he wasn’t alone. Adrien stood in the room with his father. Christmas Spirit and Ladybug were there too, the three of them still chained together. As his father hurriedly turned off the spotlight that illuminated his mother’s painting and left the atelier, unable to see them, Ladybug turned to the Akuma.<br/><br/>“<em>Now</em> can I ask you why you’re showing us all of this?” she wondered.<br/><br/>She had asked before, when they suddenly found themselves standing out on the street in front of the French Institute of Fashion, but the Akuma had told her to wait. There was nothing else they could do other than observed Adrien’s father observe the Christmases of his past. But while they had been of only mild interest to Ladybug, they were devastating for Adrien. The worst part was though, he couldn’t show it. He was Chat Noir, a stranger to Gabriel Agreste and not his very own son.<br/><br/>“Yeah,” agreed Adrien, trying to inject jocularity into his voice, but it was difficult. His mind was still stuck on the conversation he had just witnessed between his mother and father.<br/><br/>“I’m showing you for the same reason <em>they </em>are showing <em>him</em>,” said the Akuma.<br/><br/>“To teach us the error of our ways.”<br/><br/>“Yes. You’re defending the wrong person and you know it.”<br/><br/>“We’ll defend anyone if it means defeating you. At the end of the day, you still work for Hawk Moth.”<br/><br/>“But what if I didn’t?”<br/><br/>“That’s not the point!”<br/><br/>“You still don’t feel my anger and my hurt…” observed the Akuma. “C’mon,” he said, dragging them behind him. “I need to create the Ghost of Christmas Present. And I know just who it'll be.”</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Second of the Three Spirits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel snorted awake at the sound of a single bell. At first, he convinced himself that the noise and everything that came before it had been all but a dream, but he felt the hum of an active Akuma in the back of his mind and knew he was just kidding himself. Christmas Spirit was still out there, hard at work. The second spirit would be visiting him soon.<br/><br/>He refused to be caught unaware this time. He got up from his bed and settled in a handsome armchair in the corner, giving him a view of the entire room and the door. The moment the spirit appeared he would address them. He would have the first word, no matter what form the spirit took.<br/><br/>But no spirit came, and Gabriel sat there growing more and more agitated. How dare he be kept waiting? Did the spirit somehow know he was ready for them and decide to play on his patience? Gabriel jiggled his leg. He got up and checked his phone. 1:16 AM. He gave the room a sweeping gaze.<br/><br/>He paused when he noticed a light coming up from beneath his bedroom door. The bed had blocked it from his prior position. His first thought was that someone was still up and had turned on the foyer lights to see, but he quickly crossed everyone off his short list. Nathalie wasn’t well enough to leave her bed, and Adrien would be in his room sleeping with his bodyguard watching over him. Maybe it was the bodyguard then, shirking his responsibilities in favor of a midnight snack. Seemed odd to turn on all the lights though, since it increased the likelihood of getting caught.<br/><br/>Angered that the oaf might not be taking his duty seriously, Gabriel left his bedroom only to stop dead.<br/><br/>The foyer was transformed.<br/><br/>It had been decorated for Christmas before, but now it looked like something out of a movie. Garland draped the railings, decorated with shiny baubles and glowing lights. Giant ornaments and snowflakes the size of grown men hung from the ceiling. The Christmas tree had swelled in size, now taller than even the second floor. The portrait of him and Adrien had been covered in colorful wrapping paper and topped with a giant bow as if to look like a present. Opposite the room above the front door hung a massive wreath.<br/><br/>Gabriel didn’t know whether to be amazed or offended. All these Christmas trappings were extremely garish and not to his tastes, but he could see the appeal as he walked down the steps. In the foyer’s sitting area, a fake fireplace had been added for ambiance, as well as an outrageous amount of Christmas blankets and throw pillows. Laid out on the table were an array of cookies and other treats—English butter toffee, chocolate-dipped pretzels, pecan crescents, biscottis, peppermint bark.<br/><br/>A quiet but repetitive clicking sound caught Gabriel’s ear and he looked up to see an elevated train track along the perimeter of the foyer above the doors. A little train went chugging by. Its cars were filled with little gifts. From the caboose waved a tiny electronic Santa.<br/><br/>Looking about, Gabriel found several other installations—a sleigh, a ‘North Pole,’ a mailbox to place letters to Santa. A hot chocolate bar had been set up with mini-marshmallows, candy cane sticks, whip cream, fleur de sel, and three different kinds of chocolate chips, not to mention caramel and hot fudge for drizzling on top.<br/><br/>Soft music drifted in from the dining room. Gabriel recognized it as part of the <em>Nutcracker </em>suite. “The Magic Castle on the Mountain of Sweets” if he wasn’t mistaken. The door was wide open as if to beckon him, so he headed inside.<br/><br/>Like the foyer, the space was bursting with Christmas decorations and greenery. A real fire roared in the massive fireplace. It was the table, though, that took Gabriel’s breath away. A place setting had been laid out at all twenty-two spots with gold and silver plates and utensils. Red punch had been poured into glittering crystal chalices. On the table in the middle were all sorts of delicious, steaming hot dishes set up to be served family-style. Meats, cheeses, fruits, and vegetables—any mouthwatering Christmas delicacy Gabriel could think of was there. And, at the very end, lighting the last candle of the last centerpiece, was a familiar woman.<br/><br/>“N-Nathalie?” sputtered Gabriel. “What are you doing out of bed?”<br/><br/>His assistant turned to him and he instantly realized his mistake. She looked healthier than he had ever seen her, skin tanned and cheeks full. A dark green stripe had joined the red one in her hair. It matched her new green suit that she had paired with a red turtleneck and high heels. She had a Christmas pin, some sort of torch, attached to her breast pocket.<br/><br/>“Hello sir,” she said. “I was just finishing preparations for the party.”<br/><br/>“…Christmas Spirit got to you…” realized Gabriel faintly.<br/><br/>“Correct,” she said, not skipping a beat. “I am now the Ghost of Christmas Present.”<br/><br/>Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like this development at all. Amélie was fine—he didn’t much care for her—but Nathalie? She was as close as a companion to him as any, and she knew all his secrets. He feared how Christmas Spirit intended to use her, and if this meant the Akuma now knew his identity. He shuttered involuntarily at the thought.<br/><br/>“There is no need for alarm, sir,” said the ghost calmly. “I am here to help you.”<br/><br/>“No, you’re here to torture me like the Ghost of Christmas Past.” He craned his neck as he looked up at the ceiling, decorated to look like it was frosted over with icicles. “What have you done to the house?”<br/><br/>“I was only showing you what could be...but if you don’t like it…”<br/><br/>The ghost snapped her fingers, and everything vanished as the room went dark. Only dim embers in the fireplace remained, giving off enough light for Gabriel to see that the space had indeed returned to normal. It now seemed so empty and desolate though, which angered Gabriel to no end.<br/><br/>“Are you ready to go, sir?” asked the ghost, holding her hand out to him.<br/><br/>“And if I say no?” wondered Gabriel.<br/><br/>“You’re correct in assuming you don’t have a choice, but I wanted to be polite.”<br/><br/>With a sigh, Gabriel trudged up to the ghost and took her hand. In an instant, they were transported to a street not far from the Agreste Mansion. It appeared to be the middle of the day, the sky bright and clear. The snow was piled high, but the plows had gone through to clear the roads and sidewalks. There were some people and cars out and about, but not many. A small group of children filled the crisp air with their laughter as they threw snowballs at one another in the nearby park. There was a scrap of a shovel as a burly man in a parka finished clearing off his front stoop. A passing couple wished him a Merry Christmas and he joyfully gave one in return.<br/><br/>“Christmas Day,” explained the ghost. She took in a deep inhale. “Doesn’t it smell wonderful, sir?”<br/><br/>The scent of something sweet and familiar tickled Gabriel’s nose, but he said nothing as he scowled. It appeared to be coming from the building in front of them—a bakery.<br/><br/>“Yule logs,” said the ghost helpfully. “Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie makes them every year for friends and neighbors, but, due to the blizzard, they weren’t able to hand them out this year. So, they decided to do something else.”<br/><br/>Gabriel realized why the scent was so familiar. They had a Yule log from Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie last year. Now that he gave the burly man a second look, he recognized him as Tom Dupain, one of the best caterers in Paris. He also believed the man was Marinette’s father.<br/><br/>Tom disappeared into the shop and returned with a sandwich sign, which he placed out on the sidewalk. He gazed at it proudly for a moment before nodding his head and heading back inside.<br/><br/>Gabriel gave the ghost a sidelong glance. “Are we waiting for something?” he wondered.<br/><br/>She nodded, so they continued to stand there. If Gabriel could feel the cold, he’d be frozen twice over.<br/><br/>Finally, a homeless man dressed in a ragged old coat he had stuffed with newspaper to keep warm came toddling by, muttering and talking to himself. He paused though when he approached the bakery and saw the large sign. He turned rather abruptly and entered the shop. Curious, Gabriel moved so he could see what the sign said. It had an arrow pointing towards the bakery. Below it, it read, ‘Free Yule log to anyone in need. Merry Christmas!’<br/><br/>The Ghost of Christmas Present crossed the street as if she were on a mission and waited by the door. Gabriel took a moment, but eventually followed her. The homeless man was leaving the shop by this point, a bright, chip-toothed smile on his droopy face.<br/><br/>“Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! And a happy New Year!” he was shouting over his shoulder.<br/><br/>While he wasn’t paying attention, the Ghost of Christmas Present pulled something out of her pocket and sprinkled it on the pastry box the man held in his hands. It glowed briefly, then went back to normal. The man, of course, couldn’t see the ghost, so he continued down the street none-the-wiser.<br/><br/>“What did you just do?” Gabriel demanded.<br/><br/>The ghost said nothing, her face stone.<br/><br/>Soon, a woman with frizzy hair and tears in her eyes came tearing down the street, a few plastic grocery bags knotted around her hands. She skidded to a halt though when she saw the bakery’s sign. She glanced nervously at the door, then shuffled up to it and entered.<br/><br/>Now that Gabriel was closer, he could see what was happening inside the shop. There was Tom, helping the woman pick out her Yule log. His wife Sabine was working on getting a box together. Behind the counter at a worktable was young Marinette, covered in flour and chatting with a squat older gentleman, presumably her grandfather, as they kneaded dough side-by-side. All four of them wore matching hand-knit Christmas sweaters.<br/><br/>The woman left the shop, calmer and much happier. Like the homeless man before her, the Ghost of Christmas Present sprinkled something on top of her pastry box.<br/><br/>Gabriel watched as person after person saw the sign, entered the bakery, and received a Yule log from the smiling family inside. Each time, they exited the shop changed. An arguing couple came out holding hands. A frowning man left laughing. An elderly woman entered with her feet dragging and exited with a spring in her step. Each one received a sprinkle of something from the ghost. It was some sort of sparkling dust produced from her pocket, a never-ending supply, but that was all Gabriel was able to discern.<br/><br/>Finally, he tried asking again. “What are you sprinkling on the boxes?”<br/><br/>“Christmas cheer, sir,” said the ghost. “All these people could do with some more.”<br/><br/>Gabriel took a pointed step back, not wanting to get anywhere near the dust now. “Is that fair, forcing it upon them without their knowledge?” he wondered. “You’re not really giving them much of a choice.”<br/><br/>The ghost turned to him with wide eyes, looking exactly as Nathalie had when Gabriel had decided to cancel the charity check. “Sir!”<br/><br/>“If someone wishes to be miserable on Christmas, then that’s their right. How dare you meddle and twist their feelings to suit your own purposes!”<br/><br/>“Sir!”<br/><br/>Gabriel scoffed. “Christmas cheer…how preposterous. Christmas cheer isn’t going to change their position in life. They’ll wake up the next day and whatever was making them anxious or sad or mad—it’ll still be there. The only thing you’re doing is delaying the inevitable.”<br/><br/>The ghost grew solemn and pursed her lips. “I’m giving them a day of rest, a chance to recalibrate and form happy memories that will help them through the dark days ahead. Is that so wrong, sir? There are worse things, much worse things, to spread—pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, selfishness…”<br/><br/>As she spoke, the sky glowing orange with the setting sun, Tom came back out and picked up his sign. It seemed they were closing for the night. Hours had seemingly passed and Gabriel had hardly noticed.<br/><br/>“As if you were spreading Christmas cheer from the goodness of your own heart!” he cried. “You’re being controlled by Christmas Spirit, who is being controlled by Hawk Moth.”<br/><br/>“And what of this family?” asked the ghost, gesturing to the bakery.<br/><br/>“They were going to give those Yule logs away anyway! The only reason they gave them to strangers was because of the blizzard yesterday.”<br/><br/>“Yes. It was very convenient of them to be open on Christmas, to donate their time and energy, to treat each customer with love and respect no matter who they were…”<br/><br/>“This was a business decision, pure and simple. They get rid of all their Yule logs before they go bad, and they gain good PR. It’s a win-win. What else were they supposed to do today anyway?”<br/><br/>The Ghost of Christmas Present shook her head. With a wistful sigh, she grabbed Gabriel by the wrist and led him inside the shop.<br/><br/>“…so proud of everyone!” Tom was telling his family. Sabine had vanished, but Marinette and the old man were still there. “You know what I think? I think we should start doing this every year!”<br/><br/>“Yeah!” agreed Marinette.<br/><br/>“I’d be more than happy to help,” said the old man, putting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Why, just last Christmas, I was one of those lost souls wandering the streets on a day all about family.” He looked away, his eyes growing misty and his voice gruffer. “Thank you again for inviting me to spend Christmas with you.”<br/><br/>“Anytime, Dad,” said Tom kindly.<br/><br/>“So, uh…” Tom’s father looked around, lost. “What do we do now?”<br/><br/>Marinette giggled as she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the back door. “Dinner, of course! That’s where Mom went. Let’s go!”<br/><br/>“I’ve got to clean up down here,” said Tom. “But I’ll be up in a bit!”<br/><br/>Gabriel and the ghost followed Marinette and her grandfather up the stairs to the second floor.<br/><br/>“I hope you like it,” Marinette was telling the old man. “It’s…uh…not your traditional Réveillon, obviously. Different time, of course. And, like, we take traditionally Christmas things, like duck and chestnuts, but they’re all Chinese recipes. They don’t really celebrate Christmas in China, but this is the food my mom is really good at making, and it’s kinda fun and different!”<br/><br/>“If it’s anything like your father’s bread, I’m sure I will enjoy it greatly.”<br/><br/>The combination living room/kitchen was cramped but homey. The Christmas tree, while not as grand as the one in the Agreste household, seemed more…full, covered in homemade ornaments and a garland made of stale bread. Paper snowflakes were stuck to all the windows at haphazard angles. The table extended from the wall like a peninsula and had been lengthened so it could sit four, each spot set with a Willow patterned plate. On each one sat an apple with the letters P-I-N-G printed on it.<br/><br/>“What’s this?” wondered Marinette’s grandfather, picking one up.<br/><br/>“That’s another Chinese tradition,” said Marinette as her and her mom at the stove exchange furtive glances. “<em>Ping</em> is the Mandarin word for peace. In China, Christmas Eve is known as ‘Peaceful Evening.’ <em>Ping</em> is also the first syllable in the word for apple, so it’s, like, a play on words. Get it?”<br/><br/>“Hmm…” The old man examined the apple closely. Marinette fidgeted. He put it back down though without another word. Only then did he notice the tree. His face split into a smile at the sight of it as he rushed forward. “Ah! I used to make the same garland for our tree!”<br/><br/>“I know!” said Marinette excitedly. “My dad makes it every year!”<br/><br/>“But I never taught him how …” Eyebrows knotted, the old man picked up the garland and also examined it closely. He did a little jig. “Ho! It is the exact same though!”<br/><br/>“Did you ever hear back from Adrien, honey?” wondered Sabine as she put on some oven mitts. “You didn’t say anything, so I just assumed, but we have enough food if—”<br/><br/>“No,” said Marinette suddenly, face growing dark. “He, uh…his father wouldn’t let him come. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”<br/><br/>Sabine frowned. “What a shame. We were really looking forward to hosting him.”<br/><br/>“Adrien?” wondered Marinette’s grandfather, turning around. “Who is this Adrien?”<br/><br/>“A friend of Marinette’s, Rolland,” explained Sabine, steam rising from the duck as she pulled it from the oven.<br/><br/>“Does he not have a family to celebrate with?” wondered the man.<br/><br/>“Not really,” said Marinette. “He has his father, but…He doesn’t really like Christmas.”<br/><br/>“Doesn’t like Christmas!?” cried Rolland. “What kind of monster is he?”<br/><br/>“Don’t be mean,” said Sabine, playfully swatting at Rolland with one of her oven mitts. “He lost his wife rather recently.”<br/><br/>“Eh. Wives. Who needs ‘em?”<br/><br/>“Not everyone is like you and Gina. From what I heard, he was very close with his wife. He misses her dearly.”<br/><br/>“Maybe we should go over there…” said Marinette thoughtfully. “Spread a little Christmas cheer.”<br/><br/>Gabriel rolled his eyes. This did not go unnoticed by the ghost.<br/><br/>“Do you think it’s wrong of her to want to do so?” she wondered as Marinette and Rolland helped Sabine put food on the table.<br/><br/>“I wish to be left alone,” said Gabriel. “I’ve made this very clear, yet people insist on imposing themselves upon me. It’s very rude to ignore the wishes of another.”<br/><br/>“Yes,” said the ghost pointedly. “It is.”<br/><br/>Gabriel pretended as if he had no idea what she was talking about.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Adrien watched, heartbroken, as Marinette’s family enjoyed a delicious meal without him.<br/><br/>It had been an absolute joy to watch them pass out the Yule logs, seeing the look on people’s faces as they received a gift they weren’t expecting. One woman even burst into tears, explaining she was out of work and had no money to feed her children that night, but at least they would have dessert. Mrs. Cheng pulled her aside and offered her money for groceries, but the woman was unfortunately too proud to accept. Mrs. Cheng insisted on helping the woman find job though and suggested she come back to the bakery the next day.<br/><br/>But to then go upstairs and witness the little family enjoying good food and each other’s company—it was just a painful reminder of what Adrien didn’t have.<br/><br/>“Are you okay, Kitty?” Ladybug asked him. She glanced at Christmas Spirit before taking a seat next to Adrien on the Dupain-Cheng’s couch.<br/><br/>“This kitten is going to be spending Christmas alone,” he allowed himself to admit. “So, it’s kind of hard, watching this happy family.”<br/><br/>“What!?” cried Ladybug, reeling back. “Chat, that’s terrible! Here, I’ll tell you what. Once I’m done spending time with my family on Christmas, we’ll meet up. No one should have to spend Christmas alone.”<br/><br/>“Really, My Lady? You would do that for me?”<br/><br/>“Absolutely! It’s the least I can do. You’re my paw-tner, after all.”<br/><br/>Adrien was heartened by the pun and stood back up. “We’ll have to defeat this Akuma first though if there’s any chance of that happening,” he said.<br/><br/>“Don’t I know it.”<br/><br/>Christmas Spirit scowled at them. “I’m right here, you know.”<br/><br/>Adrien and Ladybug ignored him.<br/><br/>“Any ideas, My Lady?” he asked her.<br/><br/>Ladybug rattled her chain as she patted her yo-yo. “Just one.” Adrien knew the exact one. “I’m just waiting for the right time.”<br/><br/>The Dupain-Cheng family were just finishing up their dessert of the last Yule log, a dark chocolate sponge cake with almond filling, when Mr. Dupain stood up from the tiny table. He held his glass aloft.<br/><br/>“I just gotta say…this has been one of the best Christmases in recent memory. Handing out the logs, spending time with you, Dad…” The old man grinned from ear-to-ear. “I just want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. We are extremely blessed. If only everyone were so lucky!”<br/><br/>The words were like an arrow to Adrien’s heart.<br/><br/>“So lucky,” murmured Marinette in agreement as they all clinked glasses and drank. “Maybe Adrien will be able to join us next year,” she added, more to herself than anyone else.<br/><br/>“He won’t.”<br/><br/>Adrien’s tail fell between his legs as he looked at his father. The man had his arms folded as he glared daggers at Marinette. Nathalie—or, rather, the Ghost of Christmas Present—stared at the man, aghast.<br/><br/>“You would deny your son this happiness, sir?” she asked. “I’m only showing you this because there is still time to change it. There is still time to allow your son to be a part of this dinner.”<br/><br/>“He would only been encroaching on their day together. Seems to me Rolland only recently reconnected with the family.”<br/><br/>“With all due respect, sir, that’s an excuse. Do you want to know what I think?”<br/><br/>“Not particularly.”<br/><br/>She ignored him. “I think you’re sad. And you want your son to be sad too, so you don’t have to be alone in your sadness.” She shook her head and gritted her teeth, looking as angry as Adrien had ever seen her. “What a selfish man you are! What Adrien said about you last year was true—you think only of yourself."<br/><br/>“That’s not true!”<br/><br/>“It’s Christmas. It’s a time to think of those who are less fortunate than ourselves. Like your son without his mother. Because if you don’t…he will run away again. And, this time, he won’t come back.”<br/><br/>“You have no way of knowing that.”<br/><br/>“Think what you would like, sir. It will not change the truth.”<br/><br/>Adrien watched his father grimace and hold his tongue. It seemed the ghost had bested him temporarily. It frustrated Adrien to no end though to see his father so obstinate. These spirits were trying to teach him to be a better man, but because they were the work of an Akuma, he was dismissing them out of hand.<br/><br/>Talk around the Dupain-Cheng table turned back to the Agreste family again.<br/><br/>“This Adrien…” said Marinette’s grandpa. “Does he live nearby?”<br/><br/>Marinette nodded. “Just down the block.”<br/><br/>“That’s not so far. I’ll go with you.”<br/><br/>The girl’s face reddened. “Grandpa! Why would we—? I mean, I was only—”<br/><br/>“You said you wanted to spread Christmas cheer. We can bring him and his father that bread we made together today.”<br/><br/>“But his father would never let us inside.”<br/><br/>“Hmph.” The old man cross his arms. “The more I hear about this man, the more I dislike him. If I saw him on the street, I would give him a piece of my mind.” He mimed a punch. “And then maybe my fist!”<br/><br/>“Dad!” cried Mr. Dupain.<br/><br/>“I know that’s not how it’s done these days, but he sounds like an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man. Someone ought to knock some sense into him!”<br/><br/>“Violence is never the answer, Rolland,” said Mrs. Cheng reproachfully.<br/><br/>The old man settled down some. “Ah. I suppose you are right.” He rubbed his face. “It is Christmas after all, a time of peace. <em>Ping</em>, right?”<br/><br/>Marinette and her parents grinned and laughed, and the conversation turned to other things.<br/><br/>Adrien could have stayed there all night, watching the family clean up. As they washed the dishes and put them away, they asked Marinette about her schoolwork and her latest design projects. Apparently, Nadja Chamack had contacted her about helping her niece brainstorm ideas for a bridal reception dress and Marinette was freaking out about it. Everyone offered their encouragement though, and she eventually excused herself to sketch out a few ideas.<br/><br/>Mr. Dupain and his dad talked shop, both being owners of their own bakeries. The elder Mr. Dupain was looking for tips on how to increase his business using newfangled technology like ‘the computer’ to advertise. At some point, Mrs. Cheng began to hum a song while drying the silverware. Soon, the whole family was humming it. It was simple, and maybe even a bit silly, but there was something about it that was beautiful too.<br/><br/>Not for the first time, Adrien wished the Dupain-Chengs were his family. They were not rich or famous. Mr. Dupain and Mrs. Cheng were still probably trying to pay off the mortgage on their home and business. But they were happy. The loved each other openly and unapologetically. And Adrien didn’t want to leave.<br/><br/>He had no choice though. The Ghost of Christmas Present sprinkled some of her Christmas cheer around the room as a parting gift and took Adrien’s father downstairs. Adrien and Ladybug were forced to follow, Christmas Spirit yanking them along by their chains.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Gabriel and the Ghost of Christmas Present meandered through the streets of Paris, popping in and out of homes where people were enjoying the night. Roaring fires, cozy little dinners, children running amok with their new toys—Gabriel would think at least one would be dark or lonely, but that didn’t seem to be the case, least of all with the ghost spreading Christmas cheer everywhere she went. Her dust brightened every home, bringing with it smiles and shouts of laughter, hugs and kind words.<br/><br/>Very suddenly, they were transported to an alley between two buildings. Both buildings—one painted dark teal—had a door about every twenty feet or so. A metal staircase led up to the second level of the building on the left. Gabriel and the ghost took it up and Gabriel was given a view of the surrounding area. It was some sort of complex made up of modular buildings on concrete pilings, with wooden pavilions and yellow yurts scattered throughout.<br/><br/>“Where are we?” Gabriel wondered.<br/><br/>“A humanitarian reception center for refugees,” the ghost explained.</p><p>She grabbed him and dragged him through the closest door. Inside was a family, the women wearing hijabs. They were singing a hymn, the tune recognizable but the language unfamiliar.<br/><br/>“Even here, with nothing but each other and the clothes on their back, they celebrate,” said the ghost, throwing a pocketful of dust into the air.<br/><br/>They did not tarry long. The ghost transported them to a large room, some sort of gym, that was brimming with children of all ages and nationalities. There was a Christmas tree, and a menorah on the windowsill behind it. Some of the children were coloring, others were chasing each other around or playing hand games, but all had a bright smile on their faces as they shouted Christmas greetings at one another and staff members at random. The ghost went around the room and sprinkled each child with Christmas cheer.<br/><br/>"These children have neither parent," the ghost explained. "At least Adrien has one."</p><p>Suddenly, Gabriel found himself in the middle of a tent city outside. It was empty, the weight of the snow having crushed most of the tents as the wind howled and tore at what remained. Just as Gabriel was about to wonder where the homeless had all gone though, the Ghost of Christmas Present brought him through the wall of a nearby bus station. He was amazed to find it full of people cuddling up with blankets and pillows. A stout, cheerful woman with doe-eyes was doling out hot drinks.<br/><br/>“You’re a saint,” a man in a ratty coat told her. It took Gabriel a moment, but he realized it was the same man who had gotten the first Yule log from the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery.<br/><br/>“Nonsense,” insisted the woman. “Anyone in my position would’ve done the same. Merry Christmas!”<br/><br/>“Merry Christmas!”</p><p>The ghost threw another handful of her dust into the air. "And here—" she started to say, but Gabriel held up his hand.<br/><br/>"Enough."</p><p>She nodded. "Very well, sir."</p><p>Everything went dark.<br/><br/>Gabriel found himself back home in his foyer. All the lights appeared to be off, save for a faint glow coming from the upper right-hand corner of the room. Curious, he climbed the steps to find that the light was coming from Adrien’s room.<br/><br/>As Gabriel approached his son’s door, faint laughter could be heard beyond it. Gabriel froze, reminded of his wife’s tinkling laugh. He both loathed the noise and found himself desperate to hear it again. He was in luck. Adrien laughed again and couldn’t seem to stop.<br/><br/>The Ghost of Christmas Present once again took Gabriel gently by the wrist and pulled him through the door. His son’s room was alight with the colorful glow of a Christmas tree he hadn’t even been aware had been set up. Adrien sat at his computer, video chatting with two other people. Gabriel recognized one as his son’s idiotic friend Nino. The other was a girl with darker skin and glasses, sporting a sequined Santa hat. She seemed somewhat familiar, but no name came to Gabriel’s mind as he studied her round face.<br/><br/>“So, how about you, bro?” asked Nino once their laughter had died down. “How’s Christmas been treating ya?”<br/><br/>“Last year was way better,” said Adrien. “At least I got to have Réveillon with you guys.”<br/><br/>“Yeah. Stinks your dad wouldn’t let you go to Marinette’s,” said the girl with the glasses. “What a killjoy."<br/><br/>“I get why he’s sad. I’m sad about Mom too.”<br/><br/>“Did he at least get you some killer presents?” asked Nino.<br/><br/>“Nino!” admonished the girl.<br/><br/>“What!? If he’s gonna do my man Adrien dirty like that, the least he can do is spend a lot of moolah to make up for it.”<br/><br/>“All the presents in the world aren’t going to make up for the things he’s done.”<br/><br/>“Oh, don’t be so hard on him, Alya,” said Adrien.<br/><br/>Alya. That's right. She was the blogger who always had the scoop on Ladybug.<br/><br/>Alya made a face. “How can you defend him? You should hate him!”<br/><br/>“I could never hate my father! In fact, I feel sorry for him. He’s only hurting himself, acting the way he does. He could’ve spent Christmas with me, but instead locked himself up in his atelier all day.”<br/><br/>“Hey. His loss, man,” said Nino.<br/><br/>“I know, right? We could’ve had a really nice time together with Nathalie and my bodyguard. I think we’re much better company than his own thoughts." Adrien paused and scratched the side of his face. "I tried to get him to decorate the tree with me last night, but he said no," he admitted to his friends. "I’m not going to give up on him though! I plan to ask him every year, no matter what. He says he hates Christmas, but I feel like, if he just gave me a chance, I could get him to change his mind. I don’t care how many years it takes. If I just keep at it—if he just sees how much it means to me—maybe he’ll give in.”<br/><br/>“Yeah...” agreed Nino. “When pigs fly!”<br/><br/>Another face suddenly appeared on Adrien’s computer, splitting his screen into fourths.<br/><br/>“Marinette!” the three others chorused.<br/><br/>“Girl, where have you been?” wondered Alya.<br/><br/>“Sorry!” cried Marinette. “I got caught up with something else. What’d I miss?”<br/><br/>Nino recounting his Christmas again, eliciting snorts and pearls of laughter from the other three. He apparently had an eventful holiday, but Gabriel couldn’t make heads or tails of it with all the boy’s slang and surfer dude vernacular. Something about eating potatoes outside? He then shared with the group a song he had been working on, some sort of remix that sounded somewhat familiar, as gift for them. Gabriel found himself nodding along to it despite himself. When he caught the ghost smiling at him, he stopped and glared.<br/><br/>Alya was next, talking about all the games her family played. They blindfolded her older sister Nora and played tag inside the house. Whenever she caught one of the twins, they would put on the blindfold, but were totally peeking the whole time in order to get Nora back. They also played charades, Pictionary, Trivial Pursuit, Yes and No—<br/><br/>“Yes and No?” wondered Adrien.<br/><br/>“Oh! It’s what my little sisters call 20 Questions,” Alya explained.<br/><br/>“Dude, I love me some 20 Questions!” said Nino. “Let’s play. I got one.”<br/><br/>The game started in earnest, with the others peppering Nino with questions. Was it a thing? No. Was it a person? Yes. Did they all know this person? Yes. Personally? No. Did this person live in Paris? Yes. Had they all seen this person in person before? Yes. Did they like this person? No. Was it Chloé? No (Adrien took offense to this one, claiming he liked Chloé). Was the person famous? Yes. Was it XY? No. Was it an adult? Yes. Was it Hawk Moth? No. Was it one of their parents? Yes.<br/><br/>“Is it my father?” guessed Adrien.<br/><br/>“Ding, ding, ding!” cheered Nino. “Got it in fourteen. Primo!”<br/><br/>“But you said no when I asked if we knew them personally!”<br/><br/>“Yeah. You never see the dude. How could you know him personally?”<br/><br/>“I guess that’s true…” said Adrien with a sheepish grin. The girls giggled.<br/><br/>Gabriel found his hands curling into fists. He always knew Nino was a bad influence on Adrien, but he never had any proof. Now he was looking right at it with no way to intervene.<br/><br/>“It’s not fair to say I don’t like him though,” said Adrien. “I know he loves me a lot. He’s just…protective.”<br/><br/>“You’re so kind, Adrien,” said Marinette. “You're always looking for the best in everyone.”<br/><br/>“Hey, you know what?” said Alya. She rummaged around and procured a glass of apple juice, holding it up to her screen. “In the spirit of Christmas…why don't we toast to Mr. Agreste?”<br/><br/>Adrien held up his glass of milk and Nino his sparkling grape juice. Marinette had to rush out of the room to get a drink and ended up returning with an empty cup. She was embarrassed, but the others told her it was fine.<br/><br/>“To Mr. Agreste,” said Alya once everyone was ready. “A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to him. He tried to take it from Adrien, but we’re not about to let him get us down!”<br/><br/>“Hear, hear!” cried Nino, slamming his desk twice with his free hand and accidentally sending something tumbling down. He put down his glass and dove down to get whatever it was, only for the glass to tip over and fall on his head. The whole sequence of events was so comical that it was difficult not to laugh. Nino took it all in stride though and laughed loudest of all.<br/><br/>After their impromptu toast, talk moved on to Marinette’s Christmas, but Gabriel had already seen it for himself and didn't care to hear it recounted. He turned to the Ghost of Christmas Present to ask her where they were going next only to see her bracing herself against Adrien’s couch as if she were in great pain.<br/><br/>He went over to her. He couldn’t help himself. Even though he knew she was the work of an Akuma, she still looked and acted like Nathalie.<br/><br/>“Are you all right?” he wondered.<br/><br/>She began to cough, the same one Emily had before her, the one Nathalie had up until he fixed the Peacock Miraculous.<br/><br/>“I’m fine, thank you,” she insisted, straightening up and offering him her hand. “Come with me, sir. We still have a lot of ground to cover.”<br/><br/>Gabriel took it, though a bit tentatively, and they were off again.<br/><br/>The two of them saw a lot and traveled far, stopping by home after home so the ghost could spread Christmas cheer. They went to hospitals where people lay sick and dying. They traveled to foreign lands—to Kazakhstan and Zimbabwe and Mongolia. They stopped by jail cells and soup kitchens and villages high in the mountains. Christmas cheer could be found in the most isolated places it seemed, and the ghost was happy to increase it tenfold whenever they went.<br/><br/>But the act was taxing the ghost. With each passing place, she coughed more often. Her face paled. Her cheeks hollowed out as she wasted away right in front of Gabriel’s eyes. Eventually, she looked as Nathalie had when she was at her worst.<br/><br/>Then she fainted.<br/><br/>“Nathalie!” cried Gabriel as he went to catch her, but she fell right through his waiting arms and he chided himself for forgetting that she was the Ghost of Christmas Present. She rallied at the sound of his voice though and clambered back on to her feet.<br/><br/>“I’m sorry to worry you, sir. I knew Christmas Spirit’s gift was only temporary.”<br/><br/>“Gift?”<br/><br/>“He promised me good health, if only for one day.”<br/><br/>“Don’t tell me you <em>willingly</em> agreed to become one of his spirits!”<br/><br/>“Of course I did, sir. If it’s to help you…I’m willing to do anything.”</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Adrien knew his father was finding it impossible to believe, but what the Ghost of Christmas Present was saying was true. Of course, his father hadn’t been there when Nathalie had been turned into a spirit, but he had. Christmas Spirit had dragged him and Ladybug up to Nathalie’s room after the Ghost of Christmas Past had finished. Bursting through the door, they awoke Nathalie with a start and she swiftly turned on the lamp on her bedside table so she could see.<br/><br/>“Ladybug…? Chat Noir…?” she realized, recognizing them first. She reached for her glasses and put them on to identify the third figure. “Félix!?”<br/><br/>“Christmas Spirit, if you please,” said the Akuma.<br/><br/>“No!” Adrien had shouted, realizing what was going on as he struggled to escape his chain. “Leave this woman alone! She has nothing to do with anything.” Adrien had been okay with his Aunt Amélie being turned into a spirit—he hardly knew her even if she looked nearly identical to his mom—but Nathalie was almost like a second mother to him.<br/><br/>“I’m not going to hurt her,” said Christmas Spirit. “In fact, I’m going to give her a gift. Nathalie, how would you like to be healthy again?”<br/><br/>The woman raised an eyebrow, knowing a ploy when she saw one. “What’s the catch?”<br/><br/>“It’s only for one day. Then you go back to being like you are now.”<br/><br/>“Don’t listen to him,” insisted Ladybug. “He plans to turn you into the Ghost of Christmas Present!”<br/><br/>“The ghost of what…?”<br/><br/>“Exactly,” said the Akuma, not pulling any punches. “Spirits can’t be sick.”<br/><br/>“But why her?” Adrien demanded, going to stand between Nathalie and the Akuma, even though he knew it wasn’t going to do her any good. Christmas Spirit could just phase right through him.<br/><br/>“‘I can imagine how difficult it must be for you, sir. But it's also Adrien’s first Christmas without his mother,’” said the Akuma, floating to the left so he could stare Nathalie down.<br/><br/>The woman wrinkled her brow. “…I said that to Mr. Agreste last year,” she realized. “How do you—?”<br/><br/>“After you said that, Gabriel left his atelier. Of course, by then, it was too late. Adrien had already run away. But you’re the only one—the <em>only</em> one—who has ever been able to get through to him since Emilie. Maybe you’ll fair better than the Ghost of Christmas Past in showing Gabriel the error of his Christmas-hating ways.”<br/><br/>“This makes no sense. You’re an Akuma. You have Ladybug and Chat Noir within your grasp—literally! Why not just take their Miraculous?”<br/><br/>“Hey! Whose side are you on!?” complained Ladybug.<br/><br/>“I’m an Akuma, not an idiot,” countered Christmas Spirit. “Do you think Hawk Moth will let me keep my powers once he gets what he wants? Let me finish seeking my revenge first. Then he’ll get his precious Miraculous. After all, I have them right here.” He jangled the chains.<br/><br/>“Revenge?” wondered Nathalie in a panic, struggling to sit up a bit straighter. Adrien had to help her. “But you just said you wanted to show Mr. Agreste the error of his ways!”<br/><br/>“It is my belief that Gabriel Agreste cannot be redeemed, and I intend to prove it. I am sending three spirits to visit him in hopes that he will change his selfish ways. I’ve already sent the Ghost of Christmas Past in the form of Amélie Graham de Vanily, but she was unable to thaw his frozen heart. That leaves the Ghost of Christmas Present and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. If neither of them succeeds, as I suspect, I will see to it that Gabriel is punished accordingly. Now, I <em>could</em> send someone else to him as the Ghost of Christmas Present…but I want to give him the best chance possible. Don’t you?”<br/><br/>“T-that’s not fair!”<br/><br/>“Oh, I think it’s very fair. Unless you think I’m correct in thinking Gabriel cannot be redeemed?”<br/><br/>“Fine, then. Turn me into your spirit.”<br/><br/>“Nathalie!” cried Adrien.<br/><br/>“I have to help Mr. Agreste however I can,” insisted the woman.<br/><br/>“But there’s no telling what will happen when you get turned into a spirit!”<br/><br/>“You saw for yourself,” the Akuma pointed out. “Did it seem like the Ghost of Christmas Past wasn’t trying her hardest to help Gabriel?”<br/><br/>“Well…no.”<br/><br/>“There you go. There are no tricks here. There doesn’t need to be.”<br/><br/>Adrien had hung his head because he had no further argument. He even stepped out of the way to allow Christmas Spirit to approach Nathalie. The Akuma grabbed her by the shoulder and began to pour light into her. Unlike the white light with Adrien’s Aunt Amélie though, Nathalie was filled with green. When it faded, she had been transformed. She was now the Ghost of Christmas Present.<br/><br/>Adrien had witnessed firsthand the ghost trying her best, but Adrien’s father was like an immovable rock, so stuck in his ways. Any time cracks began to show, he would shore them up. His every intention seemed to be to remain the same no matter what, as if it were a point of pride. But his pride was leading him straight to his doom.<br/><br/>Adrien wanted to reach out and shake the man. How could he not know!? How could he not see!?<br/><br/>“Help me?” wondered Adrien’s father. He scoffed and looked around. When the ghost had collapsed, she had seemingly accidentally transported them to a barren field. “How is this helping me?”<br/><br/>“I was hoping to show you that everyone has their problems, yet they still find joy on Christmas. Even Adrien, who is in the same situation as you.”<br/><br/>“Our situations do not compare."<br/><br/>“I suppose that’s true, sir. He still has you. If you’ll let him, that is.”<br/><br/>“Your mind has been taken over by this Akuma. I will not allow him to sway me!”<br/><br/>Adrien’s father attempted to march away. With a sigh, the Ghost of Christmas Present lowered her head and rubbed her temples. As if deciding on her last resort, she snapped her fingers and two children appeared. Even Adrien and Ladybug jumped, startled by their sudden appearance. That feeling did not go away for Adrien though. On second look, the little boy and little girl had a striking resemblance to him and his mother at that young age, but they were wretched. Abject. Frightful. Hideous. Miserable.<br/><br/>It was difficult to explain. The children were dressed in soiled rags. They had a yellow tint to their paper-thin skin, as if they had been starved and denied the proper nutrition needed to develop. The wolfish hunger in their eyes promised that they would attack with no compunction whatsoever if they thought it would feed them.<br/><br/>They weren’t just poor and hungry though. There was a premature age about them that pinched and twisted their young faces. They scowled as if they knew the world had turned its back on them, so they were going to turn their back on it. If Adrien were being completely honest, no terrifying Akuma came close to the fear these strange children elicited within him.<br/><br/>Adrien’s father stumbled back with terror on his face, equally appalled as his son. He turned to confront the ghost.<br/><br/>“What tricks are you up to now?” he demanded, using his raised voice to cover his fear.<br/><br/>“The boy is Ignorance. The girl is Want,” the ghost explained, coming up alongside him. She held out her arms and the children ran to her. Adrien’s father looked revolted and took a step back. “Do you not recognize them?” wondered the ghost.<br/><br/>“How dare you!” Adrien’s father growled. “You <em>made</em> them look like Adrien and Emilie!”<br/><br/>The ghost looked up at him coldly as she held the shivering children tighter. “If you hate to see that your sins have a face, then do something about it.”<br/><br/>For one brief moment, it truly seemed like Adrien's father was considering her words. He frowned and looked down.<br/><br/>Then he leaned forward and spit on Ignorance.<br/><br/>Something in Adrien broke. He knew this was all the work of an Akuma. He knew his Miraculous was on the line. But he didn’t care. Something had to be done. He didn’t know what. Save his father? Punish him? There seemed to be only one option at the moment.<br/><br/>He rattled his chain to get Christmas Spirit’s attention. The Akuma turned to him and cocked his head to the side.<br/><br/>“Yes?”<br/><br/>“I want to be the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.”<br/><br/>“What!?” cried Ladybug, completely taken off-guard. She had no context, after all. She didn’t know he was Adrien. “Chat, are you crazy!?”<br/><br/>But the Akuma just smiled as if he had known all along what was going to happen. “I was hoping one of you would volunteer.”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Last of the Spirits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Very suddenly, the Ghost of Christmas Present and the two children vanished, and Gabriel found himself alone in a barren field. He glanced about, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Was he currently in a dream and needed to wake up? Or had he actually been transported to this desolate place and was expected to hoof it back to civilization?<br/><br/>Gabriel was moments away from calling on Nooroo to transform him when he saw a cloaked figure approaching him, moving like mist upon the ground. Whoever they were was draped all in white, head obscured by a hood. Unlike the previous two spirits, this one truly looked the part of a ghost.<br/><br/>As the figure drew up to him, Gabriel felt the same dread he had in the presence of Christmas Spirit. Fear inducement was at work again, but Gabriel wasn’t about to show it as he crossed his arms defiantly.<br/><br/>“Let me guess,” he said. “You’re the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?”<br/><br/>The ghost nodded but remained silent. Gabriel expected to see the face of the figure now that they were closer, but there seemed to be nothing but a foggy void beneath the hood. It was unnerving.<br/><br/>Gabriel kept talking, if only to keep his nerves in check. “And you plan to show me a future Christmas?”<br/><br/>The ghost nodded once again and motioned for Gabriel to follow with a white-gloved hand before it turned to glide away. Gabriel found himself relieved to no longer have their eyes—or whatever passed for their eyes—upon him, but also angered by his own weakness. He forced himself to follow the ghost, placing one foot in front of the other with firm resolve. But with each step, his legs began to shake more and more, slowing him down considerably.<br/><br/>“Wait!” Gabriel was eventually forced to call out once the ghost got too far ahead.<br/><br/>The ghost stopped, allowing Gabriel to catch up.<br/><br/>“You think you’re so clever, not speaking to me, not allowing me to see your face!” he sneered. “Are you afraid I’ll recognize you? Or are you afraid I won’t? I won’t allow that fear of the unknown you revel in to be my undoing. Whatever you have to show me, I am ready to see it.”<br/><br/>It seemed obvious to Gabriel. Either the ghost was going to show him a true future where he brought Emilie back, or it was going to show him a false one in order to terrify him. Based off of the ghost’s appearance, it seemed pretty obvious to Gabriel that it was the latter. Whatever nonsense he was about to see, he was comforted by the fact that none of it was true.<br/><br/>The ghost nodded a third time and continued on. Gabriel followed in their wake.<br/><br/>It wasn’t entirely apparent when they first arrived in Paris. The city, in fact, seemed to grow around them until they were suddenly in the very heart of it, strolling along the Seine. It was late in the day, freezing cold based of how bundled up people were, but clear. Their destination was Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie once again. It was lit up like a Christmas tree. Inside, Gabriel and the ghost found Tom in the middle of a hushed conversation with a bespectacled man with a mustache. Tom was putting together a Yule log for him.<br/><br/>“I’m sorry, Alim,” Tom was saying with a frown. “I don’t know much about it myself.”<br/><br/>“But when did it happen?” wondered Alim.<br/><br/>“This morning. There were police everywhere.”<br/><br/>“I just can’t believe it. And on Christmas Eve, no less!”<br/><br/>Tom shook his head and handed over the pastry box. “You’re all set, Alim. Merry Christmas!”<br/><br/>“Oh, um—thank you, Tom.” Alim accepted the gift, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. “What was the reason behind it? Do you know?”<br/><br/>“I haven’t a clue,” Tom admitted. “Tax evasion?”<br/><br/>Alim chuckled. “It’s usually something like that with those types, isn’t it?”<br/><br/>“Have a good night, Alim.”<br/><br/>“You too, Tom.”<br/><br/>With a hearty wave, Alim put his hat back on and headed outside, holding his Yule log tightly against his chest to protect it from the howling wind.<br/><br/>Gabriel turned to the ghost for an explanation on this innocuous conversation, but the ghost did nothing and said nothing. Maybe what they wanted him to see hadn’t yet happened yet, so Gabriel waited.<br/><br/>The door to the shop opened again as a man with a pencil-thin mustache, dressed in a pea coat buttoned up to his throat, entered. Tom gave him a puzzled look.<br/><br/>“My name is Jean,” said the man. “I am here to pick up the Bourgeois’s Yule log.”<br/><br/>“Ah! Right away,” said Tom, pulling out a fancier pastry box than normal from behind the counter. “Can’t blame them for sending someone else to pick it up for them. It’s colder than the Dickens out there! I hope you’re staying warm.”<br/><br/>“I am. This coat blocks everything!”<br/><br/>“You don’t say! I’m in the market for a new coat. Where did you get it?”<br/><br/>“It was a gift from my cousin. I’ll have to ask him. It’s not the cold that is keeping Mayor Bourgeois away tonight though, but work.”<br/><br/>“On Christmas Eve?”<br/><br/>“Indeed. He is dealing with a very delicate matter at the moment, so I volunteered to fetch the Yule log for him. It is a Bourgeois family favorite, after all!”<br/><br/>“Happy to hear it! Merry Christmas, Jean.”<br/><br/>“And the same to you, sir.”<br/><br/>Jean left.<br/><br/>Once again, Gabriel found himself turning to the ghost. The ghost made no movement to acknowledge him in any way. It was infuriating. Both conversations they had witnessed had been so trivial, the first full of gossip and the second full of basic pleasantries. What was so important about them that the ghost had to show him? I didn’t make any sense.</p><p>As if sensing Gabriel’s growing annoyance, the ghost very suddenly began to float out the door. This spirit wasn’t like the previous two, dragging him around or offering him a hand. They just seemed like they expected Gabriel to follow, but Gabriel outright refused to show such subservience. He didn’t want to watch more inane conversations between Tom and his neighbors either though, so he let the ghost get a good head start before phasing through the wall of the shop after them. The ghost was already halfway down the street. Though the wind howled as it made the tree branches creek overhead, their white cloak billowed independently.<br/><br/>Rather than rush to catch up, Gabriel decided to walk at a brisk pace and overtake the ghost gradually. He eventually did so when the ghost stopped in front of the gates of Gabriel’s home.<br/><br/>The house was dark. It didn’t appear that anyone was home, though someone had taped a sign on the door. Gabriel squinted at it, but it was too far away to read. He pushed his way through the gate and headed towards it to get a better look. As he did so though, the area around him transformed with every step. Bit by bit, Gabriel found himself not walking up his drive anymore, but down the aisle of a shop.<br/><br/>Gabriel recognized it for what it was. With its racks packed tightly with clothes and its shelves littered with jewelry, statuettes, books, mirrors, and other knick-knacks, he realized it was one of Paris's <span class="aCOpRe">luxury consignment shops</span>. He spun around to find the ghost waiting just to the left of the front door. They lifted a hand and pointed at the counter, where a teenage girl was speaking with the proprietor. At first glance, Gabriel didn’t recognize her, but he caught a familiar flash of a smirk once the proprietor turned his back to examine a plastic bag filled with jewelry.<br/><br/>Stepping right up to her, Gabriel was shocked to find an older Lila Rossi, maybe about seventeen or eighteen. Her chestnut brown hair was shorter, her make-up more intense, but there was no mistaking her fox-like face.<br/><br/>The bells hanging on the door jangled as the wind blew in another teenage girl, this one a redhead with glasses carrying several bags, each one packed to the gills with clothes.<br/><br/>“Lila?” the girl recognized as the door swung shut behind her.<br/><br/>“Sabrina!” crowed Lila, going over to give the redhead a hug. She air kissed each cheek. “Whatever are you doing here?”<br/><br/>“Chloé asked me to sell some of her stuff.”<br/><br/>Lila’s eyes narrowed. “…On Christmas Eve?”<br/><br/>Sabrina didn’t notice Lila’s suspicion since her glasses were fogging up. She took them off to wipe them with her scarf. “She said it was an emergency. What about you? What are you doing here? Shopping for some last-minute Christmas gifts?”<br/><br/>“I’m actually selling some stuff too.”<br/><br/>“Really!? What are the odds!”<br/><br/>“I plan to take the proceeds and donate them. What does Chloé plan to do?”<br/><br/>“Um. I don’t know…”<br/><br/>The proprietor turned back to Lila. “You have some really high-end designer stuff in here. You really want to sell it?” Lila nodded, but the man looked less sure. “Well, if you’re sure…I’ll give you a thousand Euros for the lot.”</p><p>“Perfect!” said Lila, all smiles, and the proprietor began the transaction.<br/><br/>Sabrina put her bags down and shuffled forward, eyes wide. “Whoa! You’re selling all that?”<br/><br/>“Who’s the worse for the loss of a few things like these?” wondered Lila. “It’s just jewelry.”<br/><br/>“Wow…”<br/><br/>Now that she was inside, Sabrina took off her bobble hat and unbuttoned her coat. Beneath she wore a tartan skit and a cherry red sweater with a brooch. Gabriel recognized it instantly. It was his design, a silver flower with five petals, a special edition piece of jewelry he produced to commemorate his wife. Emilie often wore a similar brooch, which she had inherited from her grandmother. It grabbed the light in such a way that it was impossible to miss.<br/><br/>“Is that an original silver <em>Gabriel </em>brand remembrance brooch?” asked Lila, unable to help herself.<br/><br/>Sabrina nodded eagerly, pushing out her chest to show it off. “Yeah! Chloé got it for me a few years ago. It’s one of my most prized possessions.”<br/><br/>“So…you would never think about selling it.”<br/><br/>“No! Never!” Sabrina held a hand to her brooch, taken aback by Lila’s words. “Why would I?”<br/><br/>Lila relaxed. “No reason.”<br/><br/>She turned back to the proprietor to accept her money and moved out of the way for Sabrina, who transported her bags onto the counter. Lila even threw in a hand to help, but only when Sabrina didn’t need it at the very end. Gabriel gave a grim smile. Everything this girl did was a calculated manipulation.<br/><br/>“How's your dad doing?” Lila asked.<br/><br/>"Great! He just made Captain!” Sabrina said, clearly eager to share.<br/><br/>“That’s amazing, Sabrina! Sounds like a lot of responsibility though.”<br/><br/>“Oh, it is! He’s dealing with this high-profile arrest right now that he’s supposed to be keeping under wraps. The Mayor is counting on him!”<br/><br/>“That’s so cool! Do you know who got arrested?”<br/><br/>“Nope. Telling me would be a breach of protocol, and my dad takes protocol very seriously.”</p><p>“Good for him! I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you. Merry Christmas, Sabrina!”<br/><br/>“Merry Christmas, Lila!”<br/><br/>Stuffing the notes in her purse, Lila zipped up her coat, put her earmuffs back on, and trundled outside into the cold. The ghost trailed after her, so Gabriel did too.<br/><br/>The instant the door shut behind her, Lila started laughing, quietly at first, but then it became more and more hysterical. She continued to laugh, almost unable to breathe, as she walked away. The ghost stopped and let her go.<br/><br/>Gabriel came up alongside them.<br/><br/>“What is the meaning of this!?” he demanded. “You take me to these places, and we listen in on meaningless conversation—and for what purpose!? Are you just trying to bore me? Run out the clock? Stop wasting my time and just take me to where—!”</p><p>It was jarring. One moment, Gabriel and the ghost were on a normal Parisian street. The next, they were in a metal hallway, surrounded by doors painted orange. Gabriel was reminded of the humanitarian reception center for refugees the Ghost of Christmas Present had taken him too, but this was indoors. The florescent lights hurt his eyes as he looked up. There were two more levels of doors, and between each floor were nets.<br/><br/>Gabriel took note of the electronic locks on each door.<br/><br/>“This is a prison,” he noted.<br/><br/>The ghost nodded, raised a hand, and pointed at the closest door.<br/><br/>“You want me to go in there!?” sputtered Gabriel. He stood tall. This spirit had no power over him. “Absolutely not!”<br/><br/>Very suddenly, a voice echoed in Gabriel’s head like some kind of prayer. The voice was male, familiar yet so terrible that Gabriel found himself unable to place it. Surely it was the ghost speaking, but he didn’t seem to be speaking using his mouth.<br/><br/><em>Oh, cold, rigid, dreadful Judgement, set up your altar here, and see to it that the guilty are punished and the innocent are set free. But if the guilty are willing to change their ways, to become better people, give them a chance at redemption. Let them be open, generous, and true. Let their hearts be brave, warm, and tender. Do not strike them down. But to those who lack regret and compassion…let them rot in here for all eternity, with no man, woman, or child to visit them.</em><br/><br/>“Quiet!” demanded Gabriel, panic rising inside his chest in a way he couldn't explain. “And take me away from this awful place! You are a monster to taunt me like this!”<br/><br/>The ghost did not move. It simply continued to point at the door.<br/><br/>“I understand you want me to go in there, but I will not do it.”</p><p>If Gabriel could see the ghost’s eyes, he was sure they would be boring into his soul right now.</p><p>“Take me anywhere else!” he cried, desperate now. “I don’t care! Anywhere but here!”<br/><br/>As if to answer, the ghost spread his arms wide, his cloak whiting out the area around them for but a moment. When he removed it, Gabriel found himself standing atop the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower. Paris glittered down below—picture perfect in the night. He breathed a sigh of relief to be away from the claustrophobic halls of the prison.<br/><br/>There was a flash of red and Ladybug came zooming up the tower on her yo-yo. Gabriel glared at the sight of her. So, three years into the future and he still hadn’t defeated her and Chat Noir. He found it difficult to believe and cast a furtive glance at the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. He was on to the spirit—had been from the very beginning—but now he was absolutely sure: Everything he was seeing was a lie.<br/><br/>Like Lila, Ladybug had aged as well. She was taller, her hair longer and in a ponytail instead of pink tails. Her costume had been updated too and now had some black paneling. Arms crossed, she began to pace the deck, looking up at every sound, scanning the cityscape as if searching for a specific sign. Eventually, she saw a black shape moving towards her from across the rooftops.<br/><br/>“There you are!” cried Ladybug as Chat Noir vaulted onto the observation deck with his staff. He was at about equal height to Gabriel now, and definitely more muscular. “You left so suddenly after the battle, I was starting to worry!”<br/><br/>There was a remarkable expression on Chat Noir’s face though, as if it were caught between relief, delight, sorrow, and shame. He seemed to be struggling to keep his battling emotions in check and it was exhausting him to the point where he wasn’t even able to form words.<br/><br/>Ladybug noticed immediately. “Everything okay?”<br/><br/>“No. Something…something bad has happened,” Chat managed.<br/><br/>Instantly, Ladybug was by his side, rubbing his shoulder. “Oh, Chaton, I am so sorry.”<br/><br/>He brushed her off but offered her a crooked smile to show he appreciated her concern. “Ah, don’t worry about it. I just don’t want to be alone right now so…thanks for coming out on Christmas Eve.”<br/><br/>“Of course! I would do anything for you, Chaton.”<br/><br/>They held each other's gaze, Ladybug's words taking a moment to sink in. Once they did, it seemed to startle them both and they looked away from each other. Gabriel only saw Ladybug’s face tinge pink but suspected both were blushing.<br/><br/>“Well!” said Ladybug suddenly, clapping her hands together. “We still have a lot to celebrate tonight, don’t you think? Finally, Paris is safe! And you know what that means, don’t you?”<br/><br/>“…What?” wondered Chat Noir, still a little lost.<br/><br/>Ladybug opened her yo-yo and flipped through a few screens. It eventually began to play music. It was a little tinny coming through the weapon’s tiny speakers, but Gabriel recognized it as Glen Miller’s <em>Moonlight Sonata</em>. Chat’s ears perked up.<br/><br/>Ladybug balanced her yo-yo on the railing and held her hand out to her partner, a soft smile illuminating her face. “Chat Noir,” she asked with great formality. “May I have this dance?”<br/><br/>“You…remembered?” asked Chat.<br/><br/>“Of course! A promise is a promise.”<br/><br/>Still, Chat didn’t make a move, so Ladybug went right up to him. She took one hand and put it low on her waist, then grabbed the other. Soon they were swaying in time with the music. It was no waltz, but Gabriel found himself stricken by how familiar the scene was to when he and Emilie were dancing at the <em>Style Queen</em> Christmas party. It was the look in the dancers’ eyes, that look of naked longing. Gabriel turned away in disgust. Where was he? Where was Emilie!? They should be the ones dancing atop the Eiffel Tower, not his enemies!<br/><br/>Gabriel was now facing the ghost, but the ghost wasn’t looking at him for once, but presumably staring at Ladybug and Chat Noir. In fact, Gabriel had to snap his fingers to get the ghost’s attention. He seemed to sense that Gabriel wanted to leave and nodded in agreement.<br/><br/>The observation deck reconstituted itself around them into a familiar room. It was the Dupain-Chengs living room/kitchen again. There was Tom, Sabine, Rolland, and a new figure, a woman with gray hair wearing a motorcycle jacket, sitting in silence at the table as they ate what was clearly Christmas dinner, judging by the apples. Occasionally, they would glance at an empty place setting.<br/><br/>Finally, when the tension grew so thick that even Gabriel began to fidget, Sabine rose from her chair.</p><p>“I’ll go get her,” she said, heading up the narrow staircase by the door. Gabriel and the ghost trailed after her. Upon reaching the trap door, the woman hesitated, then knocked softly. “…Marinette?”<br/><br/>There was no answer, so Sabine pushed up on the door and entered the room. It was very pink, a teenage girl’s bedroom, but almost all of it was dedicated to fashion design. It was almost like looking at a mini French Institute of Fashion, with all the mannequins and swathes of fabric and half-made pieces everywhere. An older Marinette with longer hair was hard at work at her sewing machine, reminding Gabriel very much of his younger self.<br/><br/>“Marinette, please come down,” said Sabine, clasping her hands in front of her.<br/><br/>At first it seemed that Marinette was ignoring her mother, but, on closer inspection, Gabriel realized the girl’s eyes were red. She had been crying, probably not even a moment ago, and was now struggling to keep herself together. Sabine walked forward and touched the girl’s shoulder though, and any semblance of control Marinette had was shattered.<br/><br/>“I can’t…I can’t…” she said as tears began to streak her face. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I just don’t want to bring everyone else down.”<br/><br/>“I know you’re sad, sweetie, but it’s Christmas dinner and we miss you.”<br/><br/>“But Adrien…”<br/><br/>Sabine enveloped her daughter in her arms. “I know, I know.”<br/><br/>“I can’t even say, ‘Maybe next year,’ because we just don’t know. We just don’t know.”<br/><br/>They stayed like that for a while, mother hugging daughter while daughter breathed heavily and tried to reign in her feelings.<br/><br/>“He apologized for it,” mumbled Marinette, drawing away a little. “Can you believe that? As if it were his fault. As if he could’ve done something about it! I still don’t get it. He was the perfect son, and yet…it wasn’t enough. Ugh. I can only imagine what he must be going through right now…and I feel so powerless to help.”<br/><br/>“You help him just by remaining by his side and not treating him any differently than you did before,” Sabine said. “He’s going to need people like you now more than ever!”<br/><br/>“You’re right.” Marinette seemed to draw strength from her mother’s words and stood up on shaky legs. “I know he of all people wouldn’t want me to be sad right now. He would want me to enjoy Christmas dinner. With my family.”<br/><br/>“So you’re coming down?”<br/><br/>“Yeah,” agreed the girl, already feeling more cheerful as she wiped her eyes dry. “Sorry for making you guys wait!”<br/><br/>Sabine gently led Marinette away. The ghost did not follow, so Gabriel didn’t either.</p><p>“Enough of this,” said Gabriel, pushing up his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “You’ve shown me this baker, a couple of teenage girls, a pair of superheroes, this mother and daughter—but not anyone of worth to me. Where is Emilie? Where is Adrien?”<br/><br/>The words were magic and they were instantly transported to where Adrien was. He was sitting at a table on a hard plastic chair in a drab old room. There were two doors. At one stood Adrien’s bodyguard, his hair a touch grayer around the temples, but he was of little interest to Gabriel.<br/><br/>“Why…would you look at him?” he said, taking in Adrien’s face and the chiseled features of his maturity. He laughed. “He’s magnificent, isn’t he?” His mind whirled with the kind of future modeling campaigns he could plan around his son. He could picture it now: Adonis, by <em>Gabriel</em>.<br/><br/>But all those hungry dreams were dashed when the other doors opened, and multiple prison guards escorted a handcuffed Gabriel into the room. He was dressed in a three-piece suit like always, but his hair was an absolute mess and his Miraculous was conspicuously absent.<br/><br/>Father and son stared at one another as if they were strangers.</p><p>Gabriel rounded on the ghost. “You’re saying <em>I’m</em> the man in prison!?” he demanded.<br/><br/>Maybe he had known since watching Tom and Alim gossip, but he refused to entertain such a ridiculous notion. Him! Arrested! Lila and Chloé unloading his brand before it became unpopular. Ladybug and Chat Noir celebrating Hawk Moth’s defeat. Adrien visiting him in prison on Christmas rather than spending it with the Dupain-Chengs.<br/><br/>The ghost, as was his wont, just pointed at the table where Adrien sat. Gabriel watched his future self approach it slowly and sit.<br/><br/>“Merry Christmas, Father,” said Adrien, his voice now with a warm, deep timbre, but it didn’t extend to his words. He only seemed to say them because they were perfunctory.<br/><br/>“Adrien," Gabriel watched himself begin. "I always meant to tell you—”<br/><br/>But Adrien slammed his fist on the table, his face twisting. “Don’t lie to me!”<br/><br/>“You can ask Nathalie. Time and time again, I told her how much I wanted to tell you.”</p><p>“But you didn’t! And even if you had, I still wouldn’t have understood. My own father!”<br/><br/>“I did it for love! For you, for your mother—”</p><p>“For the last time, Mom’s dead!”<br/><br/>Future Gabriel fell silent, his mouth puckering as if someone had forced a lemon down his throat.</p><p>“She isn’t—” he tried.<br/><br/>“No,” insisted Adrien, cutting him off. “She’s gone and you couldn’t accept it. So, you hatched this insane plot of yours.” The young man was tearing up now. The bodyguard shifted and even reached out a little but remained resolutely by the door. “I was right there, Father. I was in pain too! I loved her just as much as you, but never in a million years would I have done what you did. You’re a monster!”<br/><br/>“No!” cried Gabriel, turning to the ghost as Adrien continued to rip into his future self. “No. None of this is true. This is not my future. You’re just trying to trick me!”<br/><br/>The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come shook his head.<br/><br/>“I knew it from the very beginning," Gabriel insisted. "After all, why should I believe anything you show me!? I don’t even know who you are!”<br/><br/>Much to Gabriel’s shock, the ghost answered by lifted his gloved hands and lowered his hood.<br/><br/>“…Chat Noir!?” he sputtered, almost unable to believe his eyes.</p><p>The young superhero’s hair and mask were white, and his eyes were a crystalline blue, but he otherwise looked the same.</p><p>“Ah-ha!” cried Gabriel. “All the proof I need. You don't know me! And I don't know you!”<br/><br/>But Chat stared at him with an eerie, unblinking gaze. He grabbed the fingers of his hand which bore his Miraculous and spoke once more into Gabriel’s head with his startling, unearthly voice.<br/><br/><em>Plagg…</em></p><p>
  <em>Claws In.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The End of It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a loud crash, echoing the seismic shift Gabriel felt coursing through his body. He turned towards the sound almost automatically to see an odd tableau laid out before him. Christmas Spirit and Ladybug had suddenly appeared in the room. The heroine had a ghostly chain wrapped around her wrist that used to connect her to the Akuma, but she had broken the connection using her Lucky Charm, a red anvil with black polka dots. It sat on the floor surrounded by shattered chain links. It was translucent, like Christmas Spirit himself, and it dawned in the back of Gabriel’s mind that Ladybug must’ve deftly maneuvered herself so that her Lucky Charm fell on the chain after being summoned, crushing it and freeing her. It also had the added benefit of freeing the Akuma.<br/><br/>Ladybug’s yo-yo shot out and snapped up the butterfly as Christmas Spirit wailed. When she released it, it was white as the snow outside.<br/><br/>Running up to the anvil, Ladybug tried to pick it up, but her hands went through it. “Er…Miraculous Ladybug…?” she tried.<br/><br/>The anvil exploded in a shower of pink energy and tiny ladybugs, washing away Gabriel’s vision and transporting him elsewhere.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Félix opened his eyes.<br/><br/>The first thing he saw was a beautiful Christmas tree. It glowed with a soft white light that bounced off its silver ornaments. It rose up and up and up, at least twelve feet tall, and was topped with an eight-pointed star. Below it was a bevy of perfectly wrapped presents in white or silver paper.<br/><br/>Two figures stood in front of the tree, staring at one another. The first was his Uncle Gabriel, looking as distressed as he had ever seen the man. The second was Ladybug.<br/><br/>Félix looked around the room for clues as to what had happened. He was in his Uncle’s foyer. Maybe the man had relented and let them in? If that were true though, Félix couldn’t remember it. The last thing he could recall was dragging his suitcase through a blizzard as he and his mom sought refuge elsewhere.<br/><br/>“Mom!” he cried, looking around wildly for her only to find her lying on the floor next to him. Adrien and his uncle’s assistant were on the floor as well, but Félix only had eyes for one woman as he slid across the polished floor and grabbed her hand. He saw her chest move smoothly up and down and breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment there, he imagined the worst. He had already lost one parent. He wouldn’t be able to come back from losing two.<br/><br/>There was the soft pad of footsteps and Felix looked up to find Ladybug standing over him.<br/><br/>“Your mom’s gonna be fine,” she told him. “You were Akumatized.”<br/><br/>Félix remembered the purple butterfly now. How he tried to get away only for it to fly into the broken chain of his suitcase. How Hawk Moth spoke to him and he gave in willingly. Like a sucker. Like a chump. His grip tightened at the memory. Never again. Never again did he want to be taken advantage of like that.<br/><br/>“Did I…did I hurt her?” Félix wondered brokenly.<br/><br/>“No,” said Ladybug kindly. “You didn’t hurt any of them. You did give your uncle quite a fright though.”<br/><br/>They both turned to Félix’s uncle. He had not moved from his position by the tree but was staring at Adrien’s unconscious body as if it had sprouted a second head.<br/><br/>“Good!” Félix spit.<br/><br/>His uncle ignored him. “So, it’s over, then?” he wondered, apparently to Ladybug even though his eyes never left Adrien. “Everything the Akuma did…it’s gone?”<br/><br/>“Miraculous Ladybug restores everything to the way it was before the crisis started.”<br/><br/>“Wait…so you did change your mind then, Uncle?” realized Félix. That had to be the reason why he and his mom were in the house instead of out in the snow.<br/><br/>His uncle finally looked at him, his eyes hard. Somewhere in the distance, three bells tolled. It was Christmas, and apparently had been for some time.<br/><br/>“Yes,” said the man finally. He went over to check on his son, then picked him up. “Adrien convinced me.”<br/><br/>“Mr. Agreste, about what you saw—” Ladybug began, taking a few tentative steps towards him.<br/><br/>“A trick of the Akuma.”<br/><br/>She froze. “Ah. Yes. That’s right. Just wanted to make sure.” Her earrings trilled and she held a hand up to one of them. “I’ve got to go. Merry Christmas!”<br/><br/>She ran out the door and into the snowy night, zipping away on her yo-yo.<br/><br/>“I’m taking Adrien upstairs,” said Félix’s uncle as soon as Ladybug was gone. “Once your mother comes around, take the guest bedroom.” The man nodded towards the front door. “I’ll send someone to get your bags.”<br/><br/>Félix turned to see his suitcase and his mom’s suitcase standing next to the door. The chain on his was intact.<br/><br/>There were footsteps on the staircase and Felix turned back to see his uncle climbing it with Adrien in his arms. He vanished into Adrien’s bedroom, leaving Félix alone in the light of the Christmas tree on the cold, marble floor.<br/><br/><em>And a Happy Christmas to you too, Uncle</em>, thought Félix bitterly.<br/><br/>Luckily, he wasn’t alone for long. A soft groan eventually issued forth from his mom’s lips as she came around. Squinting up at him, she studied his face.<br/><br/>“Sweetheart?” she wondered, cupping his cheek.<br/><br/>Felix leaned into her warmth. “I’m so sorry, Mom—” he started to say, body shaking and close to tears, but she sat up and wrapped her arms around him.<br/><br/>“You’re back! Oh, I was so worried. It’s okay. It’s okay! I don’t blame you for getting Akumatized. I’m just glad it’s over.”<br/><br/>“I didn’t mean to scare you.”<br/><br/>“I know, I know. I—Oh!” She pulled away from him as his uncle’s assistant began to stir.<br/><br/>There was the sound of a door opening above though and Adrien’s bodyguard appeared. He hurried down the stairs, Nathalie’s eyes falling on him first.<br/><br/>“Is Mr. Agreste okay?” she asked weakly.<br/><br/>The man nodded as he helped her up. It seemed she could barely stand on her own power.<br/><br/>“Oh, good! I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” She finally noticed Felix and his mother. “Oh.” She blinked. “Amélie. Félix.”<br/><br/>Her professional façade veiled most of her displeasure, but Félix still caught a hint of it.<br/><br/>“Uncle said we could spend the night,” he said quickly. It was three in the morning. He was exhausted. All he wanted for Christmas at this point was a nice, warm bed.</p><p>Nathalie seemed hesitant, but when the bodyguard nodded, she sighed. “Very well, then. Follow me.”<br/><br/>Félix helped his mom to her feet, and they trailed Nathalie and the bodyguard up the stairs, the portrait of his uncle glowering down on them. Turning to his mom, Félix gave her hand a heartfelt squeeze. Thank goodness he didn’t have a cold, distant, controlling parent like his uncle!</p><p>“Happy Christmas, Mom,” he told her.<br/><br/>She smiled at him, as bright as the sun. “Happy Christmas, Félix.”<br/><br/>On second thought, maybe this wasn’t the worst Christmas ever. At least he had his mom. At least they were together.<br/><br/>In the end, that’s all that really mattered to him.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>After ripping into that oaf of a bodyguard for falling asleep on the job while playing with his toys and sending him away to help the Graham de Vanilys, Gabriel laid his son down on his bed, pulled up his desk chair, and waited. He jiggled his legs, brimming with nervous energy. Eventually, Adrien’s eyes began to shift beneath his eyelids, and they fluttered open.<br/><br/>Gabriel didn’t waste any time.<br/><br/>“Are you Chat Noir?” he demanded, feeling half-mad.<br/><br/>Adrien sat up suddenly and crawled backwards, pressing his back against the wall. “Father…!? W-what’s going on?”<br/><br/>Gabriel wasn’t moved by the boy’s confusion and remained steadfast. “Answer the question! Are you Chat Noir?”<br/><br/>“No! Why would I—I’m so busy with other things. How could I be a superhero on top of all of that?”<br/><br/>He had a point, but Gabriel also knew that when an Akuma attacked, everything went to the wayside.<br/><br/>“Where’s your ring?” the man demanded. “That silver ring you always wear. Where is it?” It was the first thing he had checked when Miraculous Ladybug had returned them all to his foyer, but it had vanished.<br/><br/>The boy looked at his hand. “Why are we talking about this now? What time is it?” He searched for his phone, first by his globe and then in the pocket of his PJs. He pulled it out to check the time. “It’s three in the morning! The Akuma!”<br/><br/>“He’s been defeated,” said Gabriel with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The ring, Adrien. Let me see the ring.”<br/><br/>The boy examined his hands again and shrugged. “I don’t know. I must’ve lost it.” He looked up at Gabriel anxiously. “What happened with the Akuma?”<br/><br/>“Ladybug was able to defeat him.”<br/><br/>Adrien relaxed a little. “Good. That’s…good. I’m glad. Something awful could’ve happened to you, Father.”<br/><br/>“So you remember nothing!?”<br/><br/>The boy flinched. “What do you mean?”<br/><br/>“What is the last thing you remember?” demanded Gabriel, leaning forward. “Think, Adrien! This is very important!”<br/><br/>“I…You sent me up to my room. I decided to take a shower. Then I went to bed. Why do you think I’m Chat Noir?”<br/><br/>Gabriel jumped to his feet and began to pace. “The Akuma. Christmas Spirit. He used you.”<br/><br/>Adrien wrinkled his brow. “He did...? How?”<br/><br/>“You were one of his spirits. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. You looked exactly like Chat Noir, except with a white costume and blue eyes. Then you destransformed.”<br/><br/>“Why would I do that!?”<br/><br/>“It doesn’t matter. The point is…you are Chat Noir.”<br/><br/>“But I’m not! I think Christmas Spirit was just tricking you.”<br/><br/>Gabriel nearly hissed in frustration. He was getting nowhere fast, so he switched tracks and sat down on the bed, adopting the fatherliest demeanor he could muster.<br/><br/>“Adrien, if you are Chat Noir…” Calm. Calm. He had to remain calm. “…It’s okay. As your father, I just need to know. We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”<br/><br/>It was like coaxing a wild animal. Adrien scooted forward, his eyes—Emilie’s eyes—wide in the moonlight.<br/><br/>“Superhero work is dangerous,” said the boy. “Even if I were Chat Noir, I wouldn’t be able to tell you because I’d want to protect you. Besides…you’d just make me stop.”<br/><br/>“That’s not true!” Gabriel insisted sharply, but he grimaced, knowing it was a bold-faced lie his son could see through instantly “All right, you got me,” he said, holding up his hands. “But can you blame me? You are very dear to me, Adrien. If something were to happen to you…I wouldn’t be able to recover.”<br/><br/>“But you don’t have to worry, Father. I’m not Chat Noir.”<br/><br/>“Right…right…”</p><p>Gabriel shook his head. Either his son was a terrific liar—which was admittedly hard to believe—or what he had seen really was a trick of the Akuma. It made sense, in retrospect. The future he had seen was a lie, so why would the ghost who represented it be any different? Besides, nothing would terrify him more than if he had discovered the very superhero he had been targeting all this time was the son he had vowed to protect. What would Emilie think?<br/><br/>No. He couldn’t think like that. If he did, then Christmas Spirit won. That Akuma had been perfect, but it had been used against him. He would have to be more careful in the future.<br/><br/>He stood up abruptly. “Good night, Adrien,” he said, walking towards the door.<br/><br/>“Er. Good night, Father.”</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>The instant Adrien was sure his father was gone, he scrambled out of bed.<br/><br/>“Plagg…?” he called out softly, panic punctuating the name. “Plagg…!”<br/><br/>He looked at his hand for a third time, wondering where the Cat Miraculous could’ve gone. He was glad it hadn’t been on him, but still—what had happened!? The last thing he remembered was agreeing to be Christmas Spirit’s third ghost. It hadn’t been his best idea, especially since it seemed he had revealed himself to his father, but at least everything had turned out okay. Well, maybe not everything. Plagg and his Miraculous were missing. Adrien crumpled to the ground, unable to hold back his tears any longer.<br/><br/>He never even got to give his friend his Christmas present.<br/><br/>“Oh, hey! Don’t go crying on me now!” said a familiar voice.</p><p>Adrien looked around to see a little black shape come zooming up to him from out of one of the dark recesses of the room.<br/><br/>“Plagg!” he cried joyfully, snagging the Kwami out of the air and holding him close.<br/><br/>“Yeah, yeah, good to see you too.” He patted Adrien, then phased out of his hand, nubby little arms on his hips. “That was really dumb, what you did!”<br/><br/>“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”<br/><br/>Plagg’s body drooped. Seemed he couldn’t stay mad at Adrien for very long. “It’s okay. Ladybug snagged your ring during Miraculous Ladybug. I told her I’d stick around and let her know when you were alone again. Pretty smooth talking, there. You almost had <em>me</em> believing you weren’t Chat Noir!”<br/><br/>“Wait…So Ladybug saw who I was too!?”<br/><br/>“Yup.”<br/><br/>Adrien hung his head. He knew the rules. Still, none of this made sense. Even under Christmas Spirit’s influence, the ghosts retained their former memories and personalities. What could have possibly possessed him to reveal himself to his father?<br/><br/>Plagg phased out the window and returned maybe about ten minutes later. He was closely followed by a flash of red as Ladybug swung up to the house and landed on Adrien’s windowsill. He pushed it open for her and she dropped inside.<br/><br/>“Plagg told me everything,” she said, speaking so fast the four words merged into one. For some reason, her cheeks were very rosy, and she seemed intent on looking at a spot above his left ear. “I’m glad Mr. Agreste doesn’t suspect you of…um…you know, being…uh…”<br/><br/>“Ladybug. Look at me.”<br/><br/>Startled, she did as he asked, her eyes sliding over to his. Her whole face turned red.</p><p>“What happened? What did I do?” he asked her, desperate.<br/><br/>“You were the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come,” she explained, her voice strained. “You showed Mr.—your father a Christmas three years from now…when he’s in jail.”<br/><br/>“Jail!?” Adrien cried. As far as he knew, his father was a law-abiding citizen. “Why?”<br/><br/>“I don’t know. It was all a bit cryptic. But Mr.—your father didn’t believe any of it. You had your face covered the whole time, so he wondered why he should believe anything you showed him when he didn’t know you. So…you showed him your face. Your real face. You detransformed in front of him. To get him to listen, I guess.”<br/><br/>Adrien turned away. He could see himself doing that if he were desperate. His father was a hard man to reach out to.<br/><br/>“Did it work…?” he wondered.<br/><br/>“Well, it did distract Christmas Spirit long enough for me to use my Lucky Charm. So, there’s that.”<br/><br/>“That’s so terrible though. My father, in jail.”<br/><br/>“You—future you—were visiting him. You were mad. Whatever your father had done, it was apparently for your mother, but you didn’t agree with it.” She paused, seemingly debating whether to share her next words or not. She did. “You called him a monster.”<br/><br/>The word unsettled Adrien’s stomach as he grabbed the back of the couch and leaned over a bit. Words flooded his mind, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.<br/><br/>“There’s still time to change it,” Ladybug offered. “I’ve seen you do a lot of amazing things…Chat Noir.”<br/><br/>Adrien spun to face her at the sound of his superhero name to find her holding out the Miraculous of the Black Cat to him.</p><p>“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t. I revealed my identity.”<br/><br/>“To one person. Who doesn’t even believe it. You just need to be more careful in the future.”<br/><br/>“But—”<br/><br/>“I can’t fight Hawk Moth without you, Adrien. And I…I-I mean…for a very long time I’ve…um…just take it. Please!”<br/><br/>Adrien had no choice as Ladybug shoved the chunky black ring into his hands. In a flash, it transformed into a small, narrow silver band.<br/><br/>Shocked, Adrien held it up for closer examination in the moonlight. “That’s weird,” he said. “What’s wrong with it?”<br/><br/>Ladybug looked puzzled as well until an idea suddenly dawned on her. She gasped. “It’s a toe ring now!”<br/><br/>“So my father won’t see it!” realized Adrien, kneeling it put it on his bare foot. It was a perfect fit on his middle toe. Looked like he would be wearing a lot of socks in the future.<br/><br/>“What!?” cried Plagg. “You’re putting my Miraculous <em>there</em>?”<br/><br/>“What wrong, Plagg?” chided Adrien. “I thought you loved the smell of feet.”<br/><br/>“I love the smell of cheese! They’re very different, you know.”<br/><br/>“Really.”<br/><br/>“Yeah. I can’t eat feet.”<br/><br/>Ladybug giggled in a way Adrien had never heard before. In fact, she had been acting strangely since she arrived—jittery and jumpy and falling over her words. And he couldn’t help but feel it was a bit of a double standard that she was allowing him to keep his Miraculous when she had taken the privilege away from so many others.<br/><br/>“Knowing who I am…it’s not going to change anything between us, is it?” he wondered.<br/><br/>“What!? No!” Ladybug insisted, entirely too quickly.<br/><br/>He grinned at her as he took a conspirational step forward. Did Ladybug…have a crush on him? “Okay, well, if you’re sure.”<br/><br/>“Sure very! I mean…very sure. I gotta go. Late super. But, um…Merry Christmas, Ad—erm, Chat Noir. Chat Noir.”<br/><br/>Adrien took up Ladybug’s hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “And the same to you…my Lady.”<br/><br/>Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, but she turned and raced away back into the night.<br/><br/>“This is gonna go horribly,” said Plagg.<br/><br/>“What are you talking about?” wondered Adrien as he leaned on the windowsill and gazed lovingly at Ladybug’s receding figure as she vanished over the rooftops. “This Christmas is off to an amazing start.”<br/><br/>“Says you! It’s been Christmas for three hours and you <em>still</em> haven’t given me my gift yet!”</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Gabriel had every intention of going to bed—it was late, his mind was buzzing—but when he passed by Nathalie’s room, the door was cracked and light was spilling out around it. He could just make out his assistant’s back as she stood in front of her bed. It looked as if she were summoning the strength to climb under the covers and turn off the light.<br/><br/>Gabriel knocked on the door softly and she turned to offer him a kind smile, swaying a little.<br/><br/>“Sir!” she said with pleasant surprise. “I’m glad you’re okay.”<br/><br/>He entered the room and closed the door behind him. “Why did you do it, Nathalie?” he asked.<br/><br/>Her brow winkled, and she sat down on the bed. She made it look like it was her choice, but it was clear she was still weak.<br/><br/>“I didn’t have a choice, sir.”<br/><br/>“So Christmas Spirit forced it on you?”<br/><br/>“I wouldn’t go that far.” She paused. “He had them, Gabriel. Ladybug and Chat Noir. They were in his grasp! I thought if I played along—”<br/><br/>“That was foolish of you, Nathalie, and you know it.”<br/><br/>She lowered her head. “…Yes, sir.”<br/><br/>Silence permeated the room. Nathalie seemed to be waiting for him to leave, so he turned to go only for her to call him back.<br/><br/>“What…did I do?” she wondered. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I don’t remember any of it.”<br/><br/>“Of course you don’t,” said Gabriel tersely. “You were being controlled.” He sighed. “You—or, rather, the Ghost of Christmas Present—showed me what happens later today. People celebrating Christmas and the like.”<br/><br/>“Who?”<br/><br/>“I don’t know. Everyone. The baker down the street. Immigrants. Orphans. The homeless.”<br/><br/>“What about us?”<br/><br/>“I saw Adrien, I suppose. He was video chatting with his friends. He told them I spent all day locked up in my atelier.”<br/><br/>“I see…Is that it?”<br/><br/>The faces of Ignorance and Want were forever seared into his brain. “Yes. That’s it,” he lied.<br/><br/>“And that’s what you still want? To spend Christmas alone in your atelier? Especially after what happened last year?”<br/><br/>“Adrien’s not going to run away again. I’ve seen it for myself.”<br/><br/>“Perhaps not now, but I worry about the f—”<br/><br/>“Don’t!” hissed Gabriel suddenly, marching forward. “I heard it from the Ghost of Christmas Present and I don’t need to hear it from you too. I am free to spend Christmas however I please!”</p><p>The jail cell door suddenly flashed in his mind’s eye. That future wasn’t even real, yet it haunted him. To be locked away. To be separated from Emilie. To have his choice of being alone thrust upon him rather than have it be of his own freewill.</p><p>To have Adrien hate him.<br/><br/>Whether it was real or not, it wasn’t a Christmas Gabriel wanted. The problem was, he knew his son’s resentment of him was growing. It would have to be addressed, or who knew what the future held? If his son were in fact Chat Noir, he might not even side with Gabriel when the truth came out! He couldn’t have that. Not with Emilie on the line.<br/><br/>“But…Adrien is also free to spend Christmas however he pleases too,” he said slowly. So, the decisions was made. “Tell him he may go to his friend’s house for dinner tonight if he so wishes.”<br/><br/>“Yes, sir,” said Nathalie, dutifully grabbing her tablet and opening up Adrien’s schedule.</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>It was perhaps the strangest Christmas Adrien had ever experienced.<br/><br/>He had never celebrated it with extended family before. He woke up to the smell of burning crepes and raced down the steps side-by-side with Félix to find his Aunt Amélie nearly starting a fire in the kitchen. With their help, her next batch turned out passably, and the third much better once Adrien’s bodyguard took over. Adrien brought a plate up to Nathalie along with her gift (a new case for her tablet), and she informed him that his father was allowing him to go to Marinette’s after all. It was honestly the best gift his father could have ever given him.<br/><br/>After that, Adrien had never felt lighter. He was so happy, so merry, so giddy with excitement that when he opened his presents under the tree, he gave half of them to Félix. A <em>Gabriel</em> brand coat, the latest video games, a drone—Anything his cousin eyed, he got, to the point where Adrien’s aunt laughingly had to tell him to stop since it all wouldn’t fit in Félix’s suitcase. But Adrien didn’t care. A merry Christmas to everybody and a happy new year! The Christmas bells rang at Notre Dame. He had never felt so alive.<br/><br/>He and his bodyguard walked his aunt and cousin to the Startrain station, passing Marinette’s parent’s bakery on the way. Seeing a sign for free Yule logs, they stopped in to get one, and so Adrien could tell Marinette the good news in person that he’d be back for dinner. The girl was surprisingly playful in response. She must’ve been in a good mood too handing out Yule logs and spending time with her family.<br/><br/>The goodbye at the station was bittersweet. His Aunt Amélie promised to call ahead next time and told Adrien she would contact his father about visiting again for longer in the spring when the weather was nicer. Félix grudgingly apologized for any harm he had wrought as an Akuma, but Adrien was quick to forgive. Félix made some crack about Adrien being way too nice, but they shook hands and parted on good terms.<br/><br/>Back home, Adrien was finally able to present Plagg with his present: a kilogram of Pule cheese. It was made from Balkan Donkey milk and was considered one of the rarest cheeses in the world. The Kwami was so thrilled that he ate it all in one bite and couldn’t stop singing Adrien’s praises for the rest of the day.<br/><br/>When it was time to leave for Marinette’s, Adrien put on his nicest button-up and sweater, grabbed a bottle of wine for his hosts, and was halfway across the foyer when the door to his father’s atlier opened.<br/><br/>“And where do you think you’re going?” he wondered.<br/><br/>Adrien breath caught. He sort of felt like today had been too good to be true. He was due for something to go wrong. “To…to my friend Marinette’s for dinner, Father. Nathalie said you told her I could go.”<br/><br/>“Did she, now?” He crossed his arms. “And did you ever think to ask me if that were true?”<br/><br/>Adrien slowly lowered his head, his heart starting to sink. “No, Father.”<br/><br/>“It is, but make sure you verify with me next time.”<br/><br/>“It’s not—! I…huh?” Adrien had been prepared to argue and was thrown.<br/><br/>“Don’t stay out too late—you have a photoshoot in the morning.”<br/><br/>“Yes, Father! I promise I won’t, Father!” said Adrien, finding his tongue after a moment. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He gave the man a quick hug, which he was too surprised to return. “Merry Christmas!”<br/><br/>“Um. Yes.” The man adjusted his glasses. “Merry Christmas to you too, Adrien.”<br/><br/>All smiles, Adrien left. Christmas Spirit had been stopped before he could hurt Adrien’s father, and the man had even wished him a Merry Christmas. Despite Adrien revealing his identity, his father didn’t believe he was Chat Noir and Ladybug wanted him to keep his Miraculous. And now he got to go spend Christmas dinner with Marinette and her family.<br/><br/>In that moment, Adrien felt extremely blessed. If only everyone could be so lucky!</p><p>*   *   *</p><p>Gabriel returned to his atelier and shut the door. He went to stand in front of Emilie’s portrait and look up at her face, but he was unable to draw the same comfort from it as he had in the past. All he saw now was the Ghost of Christmas Past. Grimacing, he turned away.<br/><br/>She had ruined him. All three of the ghosts had ruined him. The people closest to him, used against him, and he was left in turmoil. Because if he accepted what he had seen as the truth, which he had no intentions of doing, then he would also have to accept the fact that Adrien was Chat Noir.<br/><br/>And then accept that he had broken his promise to Emilie.</p><p>And then accept that he was a monster.<br/><br/>But no, no. None of that was true. He would continue on as if last night did happen. And though memories of it haunted his nightmares, he did just that.</p>
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